Angel Face
by Shadow Quil
Summary: When Aideen Campbell gets a Saturday detention, the Irish exchange student didn't expect it to change her life. All she knew was, she was glad she didn't skip. (BenderOC, ClaireBrian, AllisonAndrew) Disclaimer: Breakfast Club is not mine!
1. Loose Screws

Chapter One

Getting into to school on a Saturday at 7:22am was Aideen Campbell. Aideen is your average sixteen-year-old, living with her foster family in Shermer, Illinois, attending Shermer High School. She has deep red hair and taupe-coloured eyes, with a porcelain complexion, freckles dusted across her cheeks and nose, and she stands at 5'3". Aideen is a quiet girl, and average in her studies, but is also a bit of an adrenaline junkie and frequently jumps in the car with her two older brothers – and her younger brother, occasionally – when they plan on driving over the speed limit, especially with the roof down on those rare sunny days they had so she could soak up the sun.

Having moved from her home in Ireland two years previously, Aideen had been somewhat of a novelty amongst her classmates, due to her accent. As with all others, Aideen found herself a part of a clique – though, unlike most, her clique did not truly _exist_. Aideen was a Loner; someone who could be a part of a clique, if she so wanted, but instead chooses to be by herself. She spends lunch alone, does not talk in class, and goes right home after school. Though this was not entirely by choice, as Aideen was too shy to go out of her way to befriend anyone, and often standoffish when addressed directly; she was, however, rather glad she didn't join a clique after seeing how such boundaries boxed people in.

Aideen was wearing a power-blue, strapless, crinkle-layered dress with a bubble-skirt that cut off a few centimetres off her knee. Over it was a cropped, acid-washed denim jacket, with the sleeves folded up to her elbows and the collar turned up. On her legs she wore over-the-knee white stockings and, over these, a pair of long black boots that laced with blue laces and reached her knees. She had black gloves on her hands and her hair was tied up in a high, curly ponytail with a white ribbon, her fringe falling over her forehead and almost into her eyes. Her ears were pierced with dangling silver lightning bolts and the only makeup she wore was bright red lipstick.

"I have such a deep _admiration_ for guys that roll around on the floor with other guys," was what she heard as she approached the library. Slowing her pace, Aideen raised an eyebrow and turned, fully prepared to hightail it and leave the freaks in that room to their own problems.

"Glad you could make it, Miss Campbell," Principal Richard Vernon sneered as he slid out of his office, straightening his pale suit as he stood tall behind her. All noise from the library ceased for a moment and he coughed. "I suppose you have a good excuse for being," he paused to look at his watch, "twenty four minutes late."

"Actually," Aideen began, her Irish accent getting the whispers from the library to fire up as well as a scuffling of feet as someone ran to a chair, "I was only twenty _two_ minutes late, but between your chattering and the off-putting conversation coming from the library, I guess the extra two minutes just tagged themselves on, sir," she smiled.

"An extra Saturday followed them, Campbell," Richard scowled. "Now get inside and find a desk," he ordered, marching behind her as the redhead slowly ambled through the open door. Aideen glanced up and took in the sight of the five other people in the room.

There were two sitting in the front row, closest to the door, that she recognised by their faces immediately. The Princess and the Athlete – popular kids that she didn't wish to spend her time around, detention or not. In the row behind them sat a Criminal that looked like he'd much rather be sitting on the streets outside his house, setting ants on fire with a magnifying glass. The other set of desks found a weedy Nerd who looked eager to impress, sitting straight and respectfully, as well as a Basket-Case girl in the back with a large coat, sat facing away from everybody else.

"Great," muttered Aideen under her breath as she swung her bag off of her shoulder and slumped down in the front row, in the seat furthest from the door, all the while plastering Principal Vernon with a glare.

"You will remain here," he lectured her, "lest a more fitting punishment for you be carried out."

"Why don't you just do it, then?" she frowned, leaning back and putting her feet up on the desk, her boots hitting the wooden surface hard and leaving dirt on the once clean area. "Go on, Richie, be a _man_ for once."

"Don't test me, young lady," he warned, pointing a finger at her as he tapped her boots. Pulling them lazily off the desk, Aideen swept her arm over the wood to clear it of the dirt and rested her chin on her folded arms in front of her. "You will sit still, in silence, and write an essay about who you think you are; is that clear?"

"No," she said, shaking her head. The Principal sighed and crossed his arms, pinching his nose.

"_What_ don't you understand?" he asked her.

"What do I write on?" asked Aideen, sitting up and gesturing to her empty table with a genuine annoyance. A snort of laughter was heard from one of the five people behind her – Aideen suspected the Criminal – as Principal Vernon grumbled and went to his office to fetch a piece of paper and a pen.

"One thousand words," he told her, slamming the writing tool down on the desk, soon followed by a piece of lined paper. "No talking, no getting up, and _no_ funny business. Do you get it now?"

"Yes, sir," she replied meekly, pushing the equipment to the side and resting her head on her arms, which were again folded in front of her.

"Silence, no moving, no funny stuff," he said slowly and angrily.

"Got it," the redhead replied, burying her face in her arms. As soon as the Principal was gone, she took the cap off the pen and starred down at her piece of paper, an idea forming in her mind. "I am," she said aloud as she wrote down her words. Five pairs of eyes on her back prompted her to pause, "being stared at," the girl continued, capping the pen and twisting in her seat. "Can I help you? Umm, _any_ of you?" the girl frowned.

"Why're you so late?" the Princess asked her, a thoughtful wrinkle between her brows as she considered this newcomer to the group in Saturday detention.

"My business is my business," she told her stiffly, turning back in her seat to face the front of the room. Pushing the paper and pen away from her, Aideen decided to not try and write anything else.

"I've decided something!" announced the Criminal, jumping out of his seat and walking quickly to the railing beside the desk of the Jock and the Princess. "You have inspired me here today, Sporto; so much so that I wanna be just – like – you," he smirked mockingly. "I figure all I need's a lobotomy and some tights!"

"You wear tights?" asked the Nerd, stifling a laugh as his image of the 'Cool Jock' dropped a few pegs. Aideen rolled her eyes upwards and stifled her laughter.

"No I don't wear tights," denied the Jock, glaring angrily between the Criminal and the Nerd, "I wear the required uniform."

"Tights," the Nerd decided lightly.

"Shut up!" Jock-boy yelled defensively. The Basket-Case in the back smirked at his weak retort and continued scribbling away on her piece of paper.

Suddenly, Aideen heard Principal Vernon moving around out in the hall. Judging by how quickly the Criminal leapt into the empty seat between the Jock and the Princess, he heard him too. He folded his hands on the table, attempting to appear like an image of innocence. Aideen's eyes narrowed a little as she looked out of the doors, watching as their Principal left his office, wiping his hands down his suit, and walked down the hallway. As soon as his footsteps faded away, the Criminal sniffed loudly in the back of his throat.

"Whoop," he cheered loudly, and mockingly, as he left his seat and walked briskly towards the double doors that separated the library from the hallway.

"You know there's not s'posed to be any, ahh, monkey business," the Nerd spoke up nervously. Aideen turned and gave him a curious look – wondering if he actually cared – as the Criminal twisted on one foot and pointed at the weedier boy as he walked backwards.

"Young man," he said in a sarcastically stern voice, "have you finished your paper?" he continued as he turned back away and went to the doors. After looking down the hallway cautiously, he stood on his toes and reached up, removing a screw from the door.

"C'mon, Bender, don't screw around," warned the Jock. Aideen looked between him and the Criminal, mentally filing away the name 'Bender' – she knew it was likely a surname, rather than his given name, but it was still something to call him other than 'Criminal'. All Aideen hoped was that it wasn't some sort of insulting nickname.

"What are you gonna do?" yelped the Princess, her hands on the desk as she leant forwards to see what he was doing.

"Drop dead, I hope," cut in the Jock needlessly. Aideen tilted her head forwards and watched Bender tinker with the door, only looking away to observe the Nerd as he spoke.

"Bender, that's – that's school property there," said the Nerd, "you know, it doesn't belong to us. It's something not to be toyed with."

"Look at him," Aideen sighed as she gestured to the Criminal. "Messing with school property is probably what got him in 'ere in the firs' place."

"I'll try not to take offence to that, Angel Face," Bender smirked. Her face turning a little pink, Aideen moved her eyes back to her desk as the teenage boy pulled away from the door. It slammed shut and he quickly ran back to his seat, trying to act natural.

"That's very funny," said the Jock sarcastically. "Come on, fix it!" he ordered.

"You should really fix that," noted the Nerd, not ordering him but trying, in a nervous, frightened way, to pressure the Criminal into doing as he was told.

"Am I a genius?" asked Bender, giving his fellow detention-mates a sardonic, half-smile.

"No, you're an asshole!" corrected the Jock.

"What a funny guy!" he mocked, putting on a voice to further the insult.

"Fix the door, Bender!" yelled the Athlete.

"Everyone, just shhh!" commanded Bender, moving his hands down to further his point as he looked around them all.

"What was the point in that, exactly?" sneered the Princess. Aideen, twisting yet again in her seat and wondering why she chose to sit in the front, turned to see the Criminal's reaction to the question posed by the 'Queen Bee' of the school.

"I've been here before; I know what I'm doing!" assured Bender. He grinned, winking at Aideen as she gulped and faced the front of the room again, this time determined not to turn around.

"No!" yelled the Jock, "Fix the door; get up there and fix it!"

"Shut up!" screamed the Criminal, angry that the Jock was going to ruin his plan.

"God damn it!" cursed Principal Vernon as he opened the door and stormed in the room. All eyes fell on him as Bender folding his hands in front of him – the picture of innocence. "Why is that door closed?" he demanded. For a few seconds, no one said anything, and they just stared at Principal Vernon. "Why is that door closed?" he tried again, his eyes on Bender as he pointed to the now-closed-again door.

"How're we s'posed to know?" asked Bender, shrugging inoffensively, "We're not s'posed to move, right?" he smirked and the Principal turned to the Princess, who looked stunned.

"Why?" he said curtly. For a moment, the Princess looked as though she would rat Bender out, but she then composed herself.

"We were just sitting here," she assured him, "like we were supposed to." Not finding the answer he was hoping for, Principal Vernon scans the room and his eyes fell on Aideen.

"You know who did it," he accused, "and I know you do. You will tell me; now!"

"Tell you what?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You _know_ what," the Principal yelled, causing the girl to jump a little in her seat.

"Aww, leave the poor kid alone," Bender cut in.

"Shut up," snapped Principal Vernon. "Miss Campbell, you will tell me who closed that door," he demanded, "Now!" he shouted, once again causing her to jump a little.

"I don't – I don't know," she said, shaking her head. "Maybe it's an old door and something just came loose?" the girl suggested. Still not getting answers, and knowing she would give him none, Principal Vernon paced away from her and turned to Bender, who was grinning easily now that he knew he wasn't being ratted out.

"Who closed that door?" he demanded hotly.

"I think a screw fell out of it," suggested Bender 'helpfully'.

"It just closed, sir," the Jock assured him in a defeated tone. Getting nothing out of those who were looking at him, Principal Vernon looked towards the Basket-Case in the back.

"Who?" insisted Richard; his voice was firm and angry. Not speaking, the Basket-Case let out a squeak as she slammed her face onto the table, hiding in her jacket hood.

"She doesn't talk, sir," recovered Bender, being the first to snap out of his freaked-out stare in return to her noise.

"Give me that screw," demanded Principal Vernon, glaring at Bender.

"I don't have it," he lied, shaking his head with a shrug.

"You want me to yank you outta that seat and shake it out of you?" threatened the Headmaster.

"I don't have it," insisted Bender more firmly, but still with the light tone of innocence. Aideen stifled a laugh as he continued, "screws fall out all the time; the world's an imperfect place..."

"Give it to me, Bender," demanded the Principal, his tone stating that he would take no more.

"Excuse me, sir," cut in the Princess, "why would anybody want to steal a screw?"

"Watch it, young lady," the Principal warned, turning to her and pointing his finger at her. After believing her to be suitably cautioned, Principal Vernon went over to the door and tried to keep it open by putting a folding chair in front of it; peeking out from under her hood, the Basket-Case watched the show.

"The door's way too heavy, sir," stated Bender, a smirk hidden under his tone; Aideen turned to look at him, but she quickly looked away when he met her glance. She gave her third frightened jump of the day when, despite the chair, the door slammed loudly shut, closing the chair and Principal Vernon in the hallway.

"God damn it!" cursed their Principal again. They all stifled laughter as he opened the door again and came back inside, trying and failing to look composed as he pointed at the Jock, "Andrew Clark, get up here," he ordered, snapping his fingers. "Come on, front and centre, let's go." Jumping up from his seat, the newly dubbed 'Andrew' rolled his eyes and walked over to Vernon.

"Hey," complained Bender as Principal Vernon and Andrew began attempting to move the steel magazine rack in front of the door, "how come Andrew gets to get up? If he gets up, we'll all get up; it'll be anarchy!" he preached, waving his arms to further express his point.

"Okay, now, watch the magazines," cautioned Principal Vernon as Andrew moved to get back into the room, having been trapped outside by the newly placed rack.

"It is outta my hands, I'm afraid, Angel Face," he said to Aideen. The girl turned upon recognising her nickname, hearing him talking as though she had asked him to stop them.

"Huh?" she muttered in confusion. No one helped out the poor, confused girl as Bender continued.

"That's very clever, sir," he said slowly as if he were speaking to a child, "but what if there's a fire?" he asked, seeing a look of realisation cross the Principal's face. Aideen looked between the two, now sat sideways in her seat, "I think violating fire codes and endangering the lives of children," he said, looking between the Basket-Case, the Nerd, and Aideen, "would be unwise this juncture in your career, sir."

Cogs turned in Principal Vernon's head as he considered Bender's words, finally realising that he was right. Clenching his jaw, he turned to Andrew, frowning as he raised his head and accused the Jock of moving the rack. Smothering her laughter in her gloves, Aideen's eyes twinkled as she watched the Principal make Andrew move the rack back to where it was in the first place. Bender leaned back in his chair, seemingly satisfied until the Nerd spoke up again.

"You know," he began, "the school comes equipped with fire exits at either end of the library," the boy reminded them as he pointed at said exits while Bender said straight and glared at him.

"Show Dick some respect!" he said as though he were shocked, though really he was just being a smart-aleck. Andrew and Principal Vernon came back into the main section of the library, the latter acting as though he were punishing the Jock.

"Let's go," he muttered, pushing Andrew forwards. "Go; get back into your seat," he grumbled as Andrew sat down as he was told. "I expected a little more from a varsity letterman!" he continued, still content with blaming the entire incident on Andrew. He turned to Bender and continued, "You're not fooling anybody, Bender! The next screw that falls out is gonna be you!" he warned before he turned to leave.

"Eat my shorts..." whispered Bender under his voice, but Principal Vernon heard him. He spun in his tracks and faced Bender again.

"What was that?" he growled lowly, still keeping his composure as the 'adult' despite his rising anger.

"Eat – my – shorts!" repeated Bender loudly. He and Principal Vernon then carried out a rather comical situation of the Principal assigning Bender another Saturday detention for everything he said that contained even an ounce of attitude. Aideen watched as Bender's face morphed from sarcastic to angry, and then finally a little lost – it were as though all he knew how to do was get himself into even more trouble.

"You through?" asked the Principal.

"How many is that?" questioned Bender, the lost expression disappearing and instead being replaced with a look of conceitedness that made it impossible for Aideen to feel sorry for his lost weekends.

"That's seven," the Nerd cut in, trying to be helpful, "including the one when we first came in and you asked Mr. Vernon here whether Barry Manilow knew that he raided his closet." Hearing this, Aideen took one look at the Principal and snorted with laughter, causing him to whip around to her.

"Now it's eight," he said to her, causing a look of shock to come across her face as he turned to the Nerd. "You stay out of it," he warned.

"Excuse me, sir, it's seven," corrected the Nerd, holding up seven fingers as he did so, "It's just that she's got one now, well two after the one you gave her when she came in late, but he's still only got s...seven."

"Shut up, Peewee!" yelled the Principal before turning to Bender and walking back around to the front of the room, "You're mine Bender; for two months I gotcha," he said, holding up his hand with his index and little fingers extended and he twisted it so that the back of his hand faced Bender, "I gotcha!"

"What can I say?" the Criminal sneered, "I'm thrilled!"

"Oh, I'm sure that's exactly what you want these people to believe," he began in a less-than-impressed tone, "You know something, Bender? You ought to spend a little more time trying to do something with yourself and a little less time trying to impress. You might be better off," he suggested.

"Yeah, right," scoffed Bender under his breath, and this time the Principal ignored him in favour of addressing the entire gathering.

"All right, that's it! I'm going to right outside those doors. The next time I hafta come in here," he warned as Bender mouthed his next words, attitude oozing from him, "I'm cracking skulls." Everything seemed to move in slow-motion as Principal Vernon turned and went to the door. He opened the door, giving the teenagers one last look before he left, the door closing behind him.

"Fuck you!" screamed Bender as the door slammed shut, half of the sound of his roar being muffled by the wood meeting the frame. He frowned and repeated those words, quieter, and Aideen turned back to look at the clock. It read 7:45, causing Aideen to sigh and shake her head; if that was only fifteen minutes, she didn't want to think how long it would feel to get to 4:00pm.

Aideen shrugged off her denim jacket, folding it over the chair behind her. As she did so, she looked at the others to see what they were doing. Bender had lit his shoes on fire and was now in the process of using said flame to light his cigarette. The Princess was sat with her head leaning on her hand, a dream-stolen look on her face as she starred at nothing. The Nerd had pulled his hat onto his lap and was focusing a little too much attention on his desk. The Jock was playing with the drawstrings on his sweatshirt. The Basket-Case was wrapping a piece of thread around her finger, making it turn purple. Turning her eyes back to Bender as he used his gloved palm to bat out the flames on his foot, she caught his stare and turned around sharply.

"Keep turning and your neck'll start to ache, Sweetheart," she heard him call to her and she bit her lip, tilting her head and looking at the wooden desk in front of her. A paper football hit the floor ahead of her desk and Aideen heard the Jock cheering quietly, under his breath, and her eyelids started to droop.

"Wake up!" someone yelled and Aideen's eyelids fluttered. Her forehead was on the cool wood of the desk and she felt groggy as she opened her eyes. "Who has to go to the lavatory?" the same voice asked and she, along with everyone else, raised her hand.


	2. Twenty Minutes Fast

Chapter Two

The clock read 10:22am and everyone was in the library. Aideen had assumed her previous seat in the front row, furthest from the door, while the others seemed to have migrated to the other side of the room. The Basket-Case apparently had just wanted a change of seat, and perhaps a change of scenery from library-right to library-left, and she was on the other side of the room in the back row, continuing with what she was doing previous to moving. The Jock had his leg up on the wooden railing and was stretching out while the Princess, still in her seat, was checking her nails.

On the other side of the railing, the Criminal and the Nerd were holding a book each; however, while the Nerd was reading, the Criminal was tearing his up and tossing the pages around. Aideen watched him do this for a moment before she turned away, tapping the desk with her fingers impatiently until a glare from the Princess made her stop. She curled her hands under her desk and sighed quietly, looking back at Bender as he threw another page of the book behind him.

"That's real intelligent," commenting the Jock, rolling his eyes. Aideen tensed instantly and lowered her head – their fights were stressful, and it was obvious due to their dislike of each other that there was bound to be many more that Saturday.

"You're right," said Bender monotonously, continuing to rip up the book, "it's wrong to destroy literature," he mocked, not stopping. "It is such fun to read and," he paused as he looked in the book to find the author; "Molet really pumps my nads!" he finished sarcastically.

"Mol-yare," the Princess smirked, pronouncing the name correctly. Bender looked at her and raised his eyebrows contemptuously.

"Did you know that, Sweetheart?" he asked, pulling Aideen into the conversation with his new favourite nickname. "It's _Mol-yare_," he snorted, giving the Princess a half-grin as she glared at his bullying.

"I love his work," offered the Nerd and turned and Aideen smiled at him as he smiled a little back. Both of their smiles dropped, however, when Bender tossed the rest of the pages at the Nerd with a small frown on his face. The Criminal then reached round to the librarian's desk and picked up the card catalogue drawer, taking the cards out.

"Big deal," he brushed off the correction and being ignored, "Nothing to do when you're locked in a vacancy."

"Ahh, speak for yourself," sneered the Jock and Bender looked down, giving him an astounded look.

"Do you think I'd speak for you?" he asked in a disdainful amazement, "I don't even know your language!" he snorted. The Jock, ignoring him completely, turned to the Princess.

"Hey," he called to her, "you grounded tonight?" the boy asked. The Princess shrugged slightly before she replied.

"I don't know; my mom said I was but my dad told me to just blow her off," she explained. The Jock looked around – making sure Bender was listening – before he turned back.

"Big party at Stubby's," he told her. "His parents are in Europe. Should be pretty wild..." he trailed off to gather her reaction.

"Yeah?" she smiled, thinking about it.

"Yeah," he confirmed as Bender began to rearrange the cards, "can you go?"

"I doubt it," she shrugged, lowering her eyes and looking as sad as she possibly could without crying and ruining her makeup. Rolling her eyes, Aideen stood sharply and moved around the desks, going to the other side of the library and out of earshot. Alone, she sighed in relief.

"Maybe _this_ is why I avoid people," she commented to herself. "I subconsciously know how strange they all are."

"Ha!" a loud yell from where the others were gathered sounds and Aideen whirled around in shock. Her heart beating fast from the shock of the sudden noise, the Irish girl shook her head and calmed herself down. Glancing at the shelves, she selected a book at random and plucked it away from the rest, sitting where she was – and crossing her legs – as she read the title.

"_Rage of Angels_, by Sidney Sheldon," she said aloud, considering the title before turning to the first page and beginning to read.

'_New York: September 4__th__, 1969_

_The hunters were closing in for the kill...'_

"I'm being honest, asshole," was the charming statement that she heard when she woke her from her daydream. Half of her wanted to know what the fuss was about _this time_, so Aideen dropped the book to the floor and peaked around the shelves, catching Bender and the Jock arguing with each other yet again.

"Yeah well, he's got a name!" the Jock bickered. Becoming interested, knowing that this argument extended past their testosterone and need to always be right over the other, Aideen quickly and quietly picked the book up, restored it to the shelf – not really caring that it was likely not in the correct location – and went back to the end of the aisle, peaking her head around again.

"Yeah?" snorted Bender as though this were a foreign concept to him – the Nerd having a name.

"Yeah," insisted the Jock before realising that he didn't know it. He turned to the Nerd and pointed as he asked, "What's your name?"

"Brian," the Nerd replied quietly, hesitantly.

"See," the Jock boasted, but Bender was unaffected.

"My condolences," the Criminal scoffed to Brian, turning and walking away from them.

"What's your name?" asked the Princess, looking at Bender. Aideen – deciding that everyone was suitable distracted – darted forwards to her jacket and her backpack; she looked inside for her water bottle so that she could quench her thirst.

"What's yours?" she heard Bender question, assuming that the question was directed at the Princess.

"Claire," she replied, as expected. Bender laughed a little, humourless chortle and she looked behind her, seeing his eyes on Claire.

"I wasn't asking you," he explained, lifting his hand and pointing at Aideen, "I was asking _her_," he said as the Princess glared. "Although, now that I know;Ka-Laire?" he sniffed.

"Claire," she confirmed haughtily, frowning, "It's a family name!"

"No," he corrected, shaking his head in mock sympathy, "It's a fat girl's name."

"Well, thank you," Claire scowled sarcastically.

"You're welcome," replied Bender with a higher level of sarcasm than the Princess had offered to him previously. She rolled her eyes and snarled.

"I'm not fat!" denied Claire, rightly so. Bender's mouth twitched as though he were going to laugh, but it serious facade remained in place.

"Well not at present," he allowed with a nod, "but I could see you really pushing maximum density. You see, I'm not sure if you know this," Bender lowered his voice and leaned towards Claire as though he were telling her a secret, "but there are two kinds of fat people. There're fat people that were born to be fat, and then there's fat people that were once thin but they became fat; so when you look at them you can sorta see that thin person inside," he mocked, leaning back, "You see, you're gonna get married, you're gonna squeeze out a few puppies and then, uhh..." Trailing off, Bender mimicked someone becoming bloated.

"What a jackass," frowned Aideen, but her dark expression dropped in a flash when Bender turned to her, her head tilted.

"You say something, Angel Face?" he grinned, folding his arms. Aideen shook her head quickly and Bender snorted, turning back to Claire. "Now, then, where was I? Oh, yeah," he recalled, "Fat girl's name," he repeated as Claire scowled and flipped him the bird. "Oh," he said in mock surprise, "obscene finger gestures from such a _pristine_ girl!"

"I'm not _that_ pristine," denied Claire resentfully. Bender bent closer to her, his face once again completely serious.

"Are you a virgin?" he asked, both pausing as Claire, now enraged, realised what he asked. "I'll bet you," he continued before she could speak up, "a million dollars that you are. Let's end the suspense! Is it gonna be a," he paused again, this time smirking, "a white wedding?"

"Why don't you just shut up?" the Princess yelled, her frown deepening as her scowl resurfaced.

"Have you ever kissed a boy on the mouth?" asked Bender with a blank face and Aideen shook her head, gathering up her belongings with the intention of spending the rest of her detention away from the Criminal and the rest. "Sit down, Sweetheart," he called to her, pointing his finger at the redhead before she could shift her bag to her shoulder. "I'll get to you in just a sec', okay?"

"Excuse me?" she yelped, her face horrified. The day Aideen actually stayed put, waiting to be questioned in the way Bender was questioning Claire, was the day she spoke up in class; still never to come.

"Sit!" he yelled, though not angrily or with any real force. Shocked by the raise in his voice, Aideen jumped and her eyes flew closed, only opening again when she heard Bender laughing. "Just sit your ass down, Angel Face. I'd hate to have to yell again," he finished, talking to her as though she were a baby.

"Ah, screw you," the Jock spoke up. "Why can't you just leave both of them alone?" he said in an almost tired voice, as though he were fed up of telling Bender to stop.

"Yeah, jerk," agreed Claire, turning her head to look at the Jock, but Bender caught her gaze and pulled it back to him. Seeing that Bender had no intention of doing as he was told, the Jock stood up and walked forwards.

"I _said_ 'Leave them alone', asshole," he warned. Bender stood straight, taller than the Jock, and snorted.

"You gonna make me?" he challenged, taking a few steps towards the Athlete threateningly. Gripping her bag tighter, Aideen tensed and moved into her seat, watching both of them cautiously.

"Yeah," confirmed the Jock, nodding. Bender climbed the tables and chairs smoothly, walking towards the Jock and standing close, until they were almost toe-to-toe.

"You and how many of your friends?" mocked Bender, but the Jock wasn't taking the bait and his anger didn't rise any father than it already had.

"Just me," he assured evenly, "You and me – two hits – me hitting you, you hitting the floor. Anytime you're ready, pal!"

Bender sniffed in amusement and moved his arm up, tapping the Jock on the cheek mockingly. What he wasn't expecting, however, was for the Athlete to quickly take a hold on his arm, grabbing the other one as well, and pinning them both to his back as he pressed his knee in Bender's back, forcing him face-first to the ground. The Jock kept his arms pinned, one of his own across Bender's back in order to keep the struggling boy down.

Aideen watched the exchange and jumped, gulping as she saw the Jock in a whole new light – rather than the school's golden boy, he scared her. More so than any Popular Student should; she could clearly see why her brothers had warned her against dating any wrestlers or football players – the violence the Jock was displaying had successfully scared her away from accepting any future offers for a soda from any member of a physical-sport team. Suddenly, Bender stopped struggling and began talking.

"I don't wanna get into to this with you, man," he stated calmly, turning his face away from the ground so that he knew the Jock would hear him, his words only slightly muffles due to lack of breath. Releasing him, the Jock stood up and took a few steps back, still tensed to fight.

"Why not?" contested the Jock. Bender stood quickly, flipping his hair back as he straightened his jacked.

"Cause I'd kill you," he stated clearly, moving and walking behind the Jock – who turned so as not to take his eyes off the Criminal – until he was standing in line with the back rows. "It's real simple. I'd kill you, and your fucking parents would sue me," he explained slowly, "and it would be a big mess and I don't care enough about you to bother."

"Chicken shit," muttered the Jock, turning back to his desk. Aideen's eyes widened and she subconsciously flinched back when Bender pulled a switchblade out of his pocket and opened it, the 'tick' of the blade as it opened causing the Jock to turn around.

"Oh my, gosh," she murmured into her hands, hiding her eyes so as not to witness a murder in the making. Smirking a little at the reaction, Bender turned slightly and stabbed the blade into the back of the chair closest to him.

"Let's end this right now," the Jock prompted. Since he was still talking, Aideen guessed he was alive and looked at the scene again. The first thing she saw was the Basket-Case reach over and pull the knife out of the back of the chair, closing it and dropping it into her bag, "You don't talk to them, you don't look at them and you don't even think about them! You understand me?"

"I'm trying to help her," insisted Bender innocently, gesturing to Claire, "and I ain't done anything wrong to _that_ one," he continued, now pointing to Aideen, who spun quickly in her seat and directed her attention to her desk.

"Nah," laughed the Jock mockingly, "but you scare her, obviously. So, rather than prove yourself to be a bigger jerk that we already know you are, why don't you let her just do her detention in peace? Give her at least that, right?"

"Why should I?" asked Bender, shifting in his jacket and he sneered at the Jock.

"Because, like the rest of us," he paused to gesture around the room, "she can't even stand to _look_ at you, let alone be _near_ you."

"She hasn't said anything about anything, okay?" said Bender adamantly, pulling the collar of his jacket and striding towards her, placing his hand on the desk and leaning over her, successfully caging the redhead between his hand and his torso via his arm.

"What're you doing?" asked Claire shrilly, seeing him so close to the girl, who was tensing. Ignoring the other teenager, Bender lowered his head and spoke right beside Aideen's ear.

"You're not afraid of little ole' me, right?" he cooed at her in ridicule, a smirk on his mouth.

Bender leaned closer every second she didn't answer him and Aideen shrugged her shoulders, trying to nudge him away as she shifted uncomfortably. This just made him laugh a little and she realised he was waiting for an answer of some sort. Before Aideen could reply, the door to the library opened and Bender jumped back, pulling out the chair beside Aideen and sliding into it quickly. Into the library came the janitor, Carl, who wheeled his supply bin up the slope, to the office, where he took the bin and emptied it into the large one on his cart.

"Hey, Brian," he greeted in a friendly tone when he noticed the bunch of teenagers sat in the library, the music playing from the walkman on his cart making the library seem warmer after the argument between Bender and the Jock, "how you doing?" he asked, continuing with his task. Brian didn't reply and, instead, lowered in his seat a little as Bender turned his head to mock him.

"Your dad works here?" he mused, his tone portraying the smirk on his face as Brian sunk father in his seat, embarrassed. "Uh, Carl?" the Criminal called, leaning on his desk as he addressed the janitor.

"What?" replied Carl; he paused in his job to speak to the teen.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure," Carl allowed, slightly reluctantly as he knew Bender's reputation to be a pain in the ass.

"How does one become a janitor?" he asked, sounding sincere although it was obvious to everyone in the room that he was taking the Mickey.

"You wanna be a janitor?" humoured Carl in a bemused voice as he leaned an elbow on his cart, clearly ready to retort to anything Bender had to throw at him.

"No I just wanna know how one _becomes_ a janitor," he insisted, "because _Andrew_, here, is very interested in pursuing a career in the custodial arts."

"Oh, really?" he replied sarcastically, while the Jock – _Andrew_ – looked uncomfortable under his scrutinising gaze.

"Uhh, I guess," he murmured, before his eyes widened a little and he sat straighter. "I – I mean, yes...sir."

"You guys think I'm just some untouchable peasant," snorted Carl, "sir? – A peon? Huh?" he challenged, looking every bit the part of a man willing to put them in their place, "Maybe so, but following a broom around after shitheads like you for the past eight years I've learned a couple of things. I look through your letters, I look through your lockers; I listen to your conversations – you don't know that, but I do. I am the eyes and ears of this institution my friends," he paused and smirked, checking his watch before pointing behind them, "By the way, that clock's twenty minutes fast."

"Seriously?" groaned Claire as the others looked at the clock. Bender, on the other hand, smiled at the janitor as he left with his cart of cleaning supplied.

"Shit!" swore Andrew, turning from the clock.

"Hey," protested Bender, leaning over and covering Aideen's ears; "There's some precious, innocent ears right here, Sporto," he teased, removing his hands and tapping his finger under Aideen's chin. "You just tell ole' John if Dirty Uncle Andrew gives you any grief, alright, Sweetheart?"

"Bite me, jackass," sneered the Jock.


	3. A Plane To France

Chapter Three

John started to whistle a marching tune, getting through the few three lines of the melody before Brian joined in. For a moment, when John paused, it seemed as though he would embarrass the Nerd by stopping, but he merely took a breath and continued. Soon enough, Claire joined in with the whistling, quickly followed by Andrew – who was down-playing his involvement as he rested his head on the desk. The last thing he wanted the Criminal to know was that he was joining in for entertainment.

A high pitched whistling sounded from the back as the Basket-Case joined in sharply; she was looking between the teenagers in the room, as if they would turn around and tell her to stop participating. Aideen, hearing everyone else and not wanting to be left out, started up with her own sharp, though tuneful, exhalations. They all continued the marching tune for a moment, creating a harmony of whistles that cheered them all up and boosted morale – or, it would have, were they not in Saturday detention.

Most everyone stopped when Principal Vernon entered the room, through the still-broken doors; the sole exception to this being John as he morphed the marching tune into a the most famous part of Beethoven's 5th Symphony just as the Principal moved to stand in front of them. He glared at John as the teen slowly drew his tune to a close, a mockingly innocent look covering his face while the Principal looked away from him.

"Alright, girls," mocked the Principal, "that's thirty minutes for lunch."

"Here?" protested Andrew quickly, sitting up in his seat.

"Here," established Richard firmly, but Andrew was un-intimidated by the authority in his tone. If anything, it prompted him to speak up more clearly – then again, with his earlier display of aggression, Aideen was surprised that he didn't just up and wrestle the Principal to the ground in remonstration of the inappropriate setting for their lunch.

"Well, I think the cafeteria would be a more suitable place for us to eat lunch in, sir," he articulated, making a valid point. The Principal, however, was having none of it.

"Well," mimicked Principal Vernon, "I don't care what you think, Andrew!"

"Uh, Dick?" interrupted John, getting the attention of their Principal on him, alone, "Excuse me, Rich," he corrected, as though addressing him as such were more respectful, "will milk be made available to us?"

"We're extremely thirsty, sir," agreed Andrew.

"I have a very low tolerance for dehydration," inserted Claire, hoping to further push their case.

"I've seen her dehydrate sir," Andrew lied, "It's pretty gross," he added and Aideen giggled while Claire, unable to glare at him so that they would keep up the excuse, bit her lip angrily. John stood up, a look of complete innocence across his face.

"Relax, I'll get it," he volunteered, making a move to leave his seat when the Principal spoke up.

"Ah, ah, ah," he contradicted the idea, "grab some wood there, bub!" he said as John grinned and sat back down. "What do you think, I was born yesterday?"

"Not with those wrinkles," said Aideen under her breath – but, just her luck, everyone heard it. Claire and Andrew snorted behind their hands while Brian tried to hide his grin. A loud, but quick and very sharp laugh was heard from the Basket-Case at back of the room and John was outright beaming.

"Looks like I'll have some company in even _more_ of my Saturday detentions," he commented, "right, Rich?"

"For once, Bender," ground out the Principal, "you're right. Campbell, you have another Saturday added to the two you already had."

"Great," she groaned, genuinely upset but Principal Vernon obviously though she was being sarcastic.

"And that's four!" he announced as her face became shocked. "And as for you volunteering to get the drinks; you think I'm gonna have you roaming these halls?" he asked John before pointing at Andrew. "You!" he announced as Andrew looked up sharply. He then began 'subtly' gesturing to Claire, as though the Principal might _actually_ send her with him. Instead, he pointed at the girl in the back, "And you! Hey! What's her name? Wake her! Wake her up!" he yelled and she sharply turned her head to glare up at him. "Come on, on your feet, missy! Let's go! This is no rest home!"

"Hm," grunted the girl as she stood, pulling her bag strap around her torso.

"There's a soft drink machine in the teacher's lounge," he told them, herding the two teenagers towards the door, "Let's go!"

As soon as the doors closed behind the Principal and the drink-fetching-duo, the library burst into a flurry of movement. Claire moved to pick up her bag and sifted through it, pulling out a mirror to check her hair and makeup. Brian had picked up his pencil and was tapping the table quietly, staring at his piece of paper in thought. Aideen took off her jacket and rubbed her hands, still gloved, together before running her fingers through her ponytail.

The girl looked over to the Criminal as John leapt up from his seat, running to the door to check if Principal Vernon went to his office, or was gone up the hall with Andrew and the Basket-Case. Judging by his grin, Aideen guessed that the Principal was now out of hearing distance. He moved away from the door and walked towards her, stopping in front of her on the other side of the desk as Aideen looked up at him curiously.

"C'mon, Angel Face," he prompted, clapping his hands and rubbing them together, his grin still firmly in place. "You, me, Brianna, and Princess Ka-Laire are gonna break some rules."

"Says who?" scoffed Claire, scowling at him.

"Says _me_," he mocked, raising his eyebrows and standing up again, walking backwards between the desks and further into the library. When he was out of seeing distance, Claire rolled her eyes and turned back to the front for a moment before her curiosity got the better of her.

"Fuck," she cursed, getting up quickly and following John. Watching her go, Brain glanced at Aideen once before he, too, followed the Criminal. Now sitting alone, Aideen bit her lip looked down at her desk. Heavy footsteps came towards her and she felt large hands on her upper arms, lifting her from her seat and steering her towards the back of the library. Her jacket was left on the table.

"Come along, Angel Face," John's voice sounded. She could tell he was grinning as he made her walk to where the other two were. Claire was leaning against one of the many sculptures the library housed while Brian was sat opposite her, reading a book about human disease.

"I see he got you, then," smiled Claire, walking to the Loner and the Criminal, pulling Aideen away from John and taking her to the statue she was leaning on while John stole the book from Brian and flicked through it.

"I just wish this day would end, already," whispered Aideen as she slumped to the ground, pulling her legs up and resting her chin on her knees as she leaned back against the statue. Claire put all her weight on the statue as well as she moved, rolling on her shoulder from the side of the sculpture to the front.

"Damn," John muttered, his leg shaking, "I could really just go to my locker right now."

"Why?" scoffed Claire, "You got a 'Get out of Jail Free' card in there, or something?"

"Or something," he chuckled, looking back at the book.

"Freak," the Princess whispered, glancing down at her nails.

"Girls," called John, who had put the book down and been watching them, "you wanna see a picture of a guy with elephantitus of the nuts?" he asked, watching Claire's face morph into disgust while Aideen blushed and buried her face in her knees – he found the Irish girl's reaction cute. "It's pretty tasty," he teased.

"No, thank you," the American redhead rejected, rolling her eyes as she moved along the statue again.

"How 'bout you, Sweetheart?" he grinned, looking towards Aideen.

"Leave her alone," sighed Claire, moving back beside the other redhead.

"How do you think he rides a bike?" John persisted while Claire sneered at him and looked at her nails. "Oh, Claire," he continued, this time sounding almost sincere and she looked at him again, "would you ever consider dating a guy like this?"

"Can't you just leave me alone?" she groaned, using her hands to emphasis her weariness of his bullying.

"I mean if he had a great personality," the teen carried on, ignoring her, "and was a good dancer and had a cool car," he paused, smirking, "Although you'd probably have to ride in the back seat, because his nuts would ride shotgun."

"You know what I wish I was doing?" Claire mused, now taking it as her turn to ignore him.

"Uh, watch what you say," warned John, pointing to the Geek, "Brian here is a cherry."

"A cherry?" the boy repeated, frowning in disbelief.

"I wish I was on a plane," Claire continued, causing the boys to look at her for a moment, "to France," she sighed, still ignoring the boys. Aideen was beginning to drift to sleep again.

"I'm not a cherry," Brian denied, getting John's attention back on him.

"When have you ever gotten laid?" asked John, speaking quietly so only Brian would hear him.

"I've laid lotsa times!" he claimed, raising his eyebrows as if daring John to disagree with him.

"Name one," challenged the Criminal, smirking.

"She lives in Canada," Brian said as John shook his head, "met her at Niagara Falls. You wouldn't know her." When he finished, John scoffed and grinned mockingly.

"Ever laid anyone around here?" he asked, this time not even trying to be quiet in front of the girls.

"Shh," Brian motioned for him to be quite as he gestured with his head towards the girls – Claire had her back turned to them still and Aideen was halfway asleep, with her head still buried in her knees.

"Oh," taunted John, loudly, "you and Claire did it!" he gasped. Claire spun around sharply, narrowing her eyes at the two, while Aideen lifted her head to see the aftermath of that statement.

"What are you talking about?" challenged Claire, looking between the Criminal and the Brain.

"Nothin', nothin," he assured her before turning to John, "Let's just drop it, we'll talk about it later," he said.

"No!" rejected the redhead furiously, "Drop what? What're you talking about?"

"Well," John began to inform her, "Brian's trying to tell me that, _in addition_ to the number of girls in the Niagara Falls area," he explained, "that presently you and he are, riding the hobby horse!"

"Little pig!" sneered Claire, looking at Brian.

"No, I'm not!" denied the Brain, "I'm not! John," he gestured, "said I was a cherry, and I said I wasn't; that's it, that's all that was said!"

"Well then," contested John as he picked up the conversation again, "what were you motioning to Claire for?"

"You know I don't appreciate this very much, Brian," scolded Claire. Aideen looked between the three of them, eyebrows raised. She didn't expect this from Brian; no one did, really.

"He is lying!" accused the Brain as a last resort, not wanting Claire angry at him.

"Oh, you weren't motioning to Claire?" asked John, but this time his question was less mocking and more serious. "So, it was Angel Face, right?" he dared, standing and glaring at the boy.

"What?" yelped Brian, "No, it wasn't!"

"Excuse me?" squeaked the meeker redhead.

"You're disgusting, Brian," sneered Claire. "What's she ever done to you? What did _I_ ever do to you?"

"I wasn't," he began lamely.

"Who, exactly," said John slowly, "where you motioning at, then? Claire, or Angel Face?" he asked. Brain looked from John to the girls for a few moments and, unable to lie anymore, he avoided the question.

"You know he's lying, right?" he asked the girls.

"Were you or were you not motioning to one of the girls?" John persisted.

"Yeah, but it was only," he began quietly, embarrassed, "was only because I didn't want them to know that I was a virgin, okay?" he admitted while John just stared at him. A smile came to Claire's face and Aideen relaxed, standing up and dusting off her dress and gloves. "Excuse me for being a virgin, I'm sorry," he muttered, feeling humiliated at his confession as Claire walked across to the desks.

"Why didn't you want me to know you were a virgin?" she asked him calmly.

"Because it's personal business," he excused, "It's my personal, private business."

"Well, Brian," smirked John, "it doesn't sound like you're doing _any_ business."

"Y'know, I think it's okay for a guy to be a virgin," Claire assured him, nudging Aideen.

"Hmm?" she said, looking up, "Oh, yeah; n-nothing wrong with it," she agreed nervously, looking down again as John looked at them, surprised. He was sure that the confession would cause Brian _some_ social humiliation, but he seemed to be more popular with the girls than before.

"You do?" asked Brian, a smile on his face as Claire nodded at him, mirroring his smile. Aideen shrugged, not caring too much, and Brain looked at John, sneering for a moment, before smiling again and resting his nose on his knee in satisfaction.


	4. Did I Stutter?

Chapter Four

Andrew and the Basket-Case had returned with the drinks – six cans of Coke – and everyone had sat down at their previous desks to eat their lunch. Everyone began rummaging through their bags to find their midday meals, except John, and they were all more than ready to dig in. Sounds of rummaging and paper bags filled the library for a moment until John's voice replaced them.

"What's in there?" he asked Claire, who had pulled out a silver paper bag and was in the process of removing her lunch – beginning with a piece of wood and a napkin.

"Guess," she taunted, continuing to remove her meal, "where's your lunch?" she asked him.

"_She_," he gestured to Aideen, who was still looking through her backpack, "is wearing it," the Criminal smirked at the Irish redhead, who was oblivious to his comment. She was still innocently sifting through her bag.

"You're nauseating," Claire scoffed at him. Ignoring her, John grabbed a can of Coke and tossed it backwards, over his shoulder, to the Basket-Case, who caught it without even looking up. He then watched Claire set up a platter of oriental food.

"What's that?" he asked, sounding disgusted as he wrinkled his nose.

"Sushi," replied Claire easily as everyone looked at her, and her meal, with a mixture of confused and grossed-out expression. She poured a decent amount of soy sauce into a small, white dish as they stared.

"Su-shi?" repeated John in the same way as he had repeated her name earlier that day.

"Rice," Claire began explaining, "uh, raw fish and seaweed," she finished, looking between everyone as she picked up a pair of black chopsticks.

"You won't accept a guys tongue in your mouth and you're gonna eat that?" he asked her, genuinely repulsed by her food.

"Can I eat?" asked Claire, rolling her eyes.

"I don't know," warned John, "give it a try."

Before Claire could dig in, however, everyone's attention was turned to Andrew as he removed his lunch from his bag. Aideen's eyes widened and the paused in locating her lunch as he took out a jumbo-sized bag of crisps, three wrapped sandwiches, a bag of cookies, and a full carton of milk. He moved to put his back on the floor when he paused, pulling out a banana and an apple. Shaking her head as he unwrapped and began eating a sandwich, Aideen looked away and patted her stomach – no way would she even _think_ she could eat all of that.

A fizzing sound came from the back of the room and Aideen and Brian watched as the Basket-Case opened her can of Coke – the fizzing sound being it fizzing over the top and onto the desk. She loudly slurped it from the top of the can, and then moved it slightly so she could get it off the table as well, taking it straight from the wood and into her mouth. She then slurped it from her fingers and, having looked around to see what she was doing, Andrew noticed John staring at him and his gargantuan lunch.

"What's your problem?" he asked, but was ignored as the attention of the room was once more drawn to the Basket-Case. She had opened her own sandwich and had tossed the meat filling up above her head, where it stuck onto the main sculpture in the library. She then opened one of her many pixie stix and poured the sugar onto the buttered bread as the meat fell to the floor. After taking a mouthful of Coke and swishing it in her mouth, she emptied two more pixie stix and put the empty containers into her can. The girl then crushed some Cap'n Crunch on top, putting the sandwich together and taking a loud bite.

"Wow," murmured Aideen, returning to her search for lunch as John went over to and sat down by Brian. He pulls the Brain's lunch bag over to him and placed a can of Coke in Brian's hands.

"What're we having?" asked John, folding his hands in front of him and glancing up at Aideen, who had turned around when she heard him steal Brian's lunch bag. He winked at the redhead, but she ignored him this time.

"Uh," stuttered Brian, "it's your standard, regular lunch I guess," he replied nervously. John reached into the bag and pulled out a pastel-coloured thermos, placing it on the table between them and staring at it.

"Milk?" he questioned.

"Soup," corrected Brian. Nodding once, John reached back into the bag and slapped Brian's hand away when he tried to reach for his lunch. The Criminal pulled out a juice box and held it in his hand, staring at it for a moment. "That's apple juice," said the Brain when John didn't comment.

"I can read," John huffed, placing it beside the soup as he took out the final item in the bag. "PB & J with the crusts cut off," comment John monotonously. "Well Brian, this is a very nutritious lunch," he continued, "all the food groups are represented," he shook his head and scoffed. "Did your mom marry Mr. Rogers?"

"Uh, no, Mr. Johnson," replied Brian, taking the comment seriously as Claire and Andrew smiled at each other in amusement.

"Ahhh," John nodded, as if understanding, and he stood up, walking to the centre of the desks. Aideen abandoned her search for her non-existent lunch to watch. "Here's my impression of life at big Bri's house," he announced.

"Oh, great," she sighed quietly, looking towards Brian before looking back to John.

"Son!" he called out on a booming voice, "Yeah, Dad?" he replied to himself, this time in a child's voice, and he continued in this manner throughout. "How's your day, pal?" the Criminal asked, "Great Dad, how's yours? – Super, say son, how'd you like to go fishing this weekend? – Great Dad, but I've got homework to do! – That's all right son, you can do it on the boat! – Gee! – Dear, isn't our son swell? – Yes Dear, isn't life swell?" he picked up a more motherly voice this time before he mimed Brian's parents kissing. The charade ceased being even a little funny when he impersonated Brian's father punching his mother in the face.

Everyone was quiet as John sat down; all the fleeting smiles that had appeared during his act had disappeared and most were now frowning or glaring at the Criminal. Brian had gone from being slightly amused by the show to looking at his desk in embarrassment, knowing it was all false but still feeling the need to correct everyone. It was Andrew, in the end, who spoke up.

"All right," he began, "what about your family?"

"Oh, mine?" asked John innocently, "That's real easy." He stood again and pointed forwards, mimicking his father, "Stupid, worthless, no good, God damned, freeloading, son of a bitch, retarded, big mouth, know it all, asshole, jerk!" he spat before shifting his stance to imitate his mother, "You forgot ugly, lazy and disrespectful," he said before John slammed his hand back to slap his invisible mother, "Shut up bitch! Go fix me a turkey pot pie! – What about you, Dad?" he asked, now as himself, "Fuck you! – No, Dad, what about you? – Fuck you! – No, Dad, what about you? – Fuck you!" he reached out and pretended he's his father hitting him before he finished, sitting back in his seat.

"Is that for real?" asked Brian after a moment of silence as everyone took in what they just saw.

"You wanna come over sometime?" offered John sarcastically. Andrew rolled his eyes in disbelief and spoke up.

"That's bullshit," he rejected, "It's all just part of your image, I don't believe a word of it," the Jock stated and John actually looked hurt for a moment before he stood up again.

"You don't believe me?" he challenged.

"No," confirmed Andrew.

"No?"

"Did I stutter?" mocked the Jock. John walked to him and rolled up his right sleeve, unveiling a circular shaped burn scar. Andrew saw it and looked away, wincing a little – not only at being proven wrong, but also because what John had shown them was true.

"Do you believe this?" he sneered, "Huh? It's about the size of a cigar – do I stutter?" mocked John when Andrew was silent, "You see, this is what you get in my house when you spill paint in the garage," he told him, beginning to walk away backwards, "See I don't think that I need to sit here with you fuckin' dildos anymore!" he roared, turning around as he walked over to a map table and threw all of the maps on the floor. He then climbed up on top of the table and up to the second floor balcony, sitting with his chin rested on the safety bars with his legs hanging.

"You shouldn't have said that!" yelled Claire at Andrew, scolding him.

"How would I know, I mean he lies about everything anyway!" said Andrew to defend himself. Aideen just looked at John for a moment, looking down at her gloved hands and tights-covered legs with a wince. She stood quickly, hurrying to the door and opening it enough to look out, but not enough to be noticed.

"What're you doing?" asked Claire with a huff, folding her arms as she watched the meeker girl. Aideen ignored her and continued to watch their Principal as he put an orange in his mouth and then attempted to pour coffee out of his thermos. However, rather than releasing a stream of the liquid, the top came off and the coffee spilt all over his desk.

"Oh, shit!" she heard him yell as she ducked back into the library, closing the door softly. Hearing footsteps echo down the hall, she ran back inside and stood by the table that John had used to climb up, reaching up and tapping his foot.

"What?" he snapped as he looked down with a scowl. Aideen winced and his face softened, "Oh, it's you. What do you want, Angel Face?"

"P-Principal Vernon left his office," she told him.

"So?" he frowned, pulling his legs back up and jumping down beside her.

"W-Well," she stuttered, backing away a little, "Didn't you w-want to go to y-your locker?" the girl asked meekly. John paused for a moment, thinking, and then grinned widely.

"Let's go, Sweetheart," he said, taking her hand and leading her to the door briskly. "Any of you Barf-Bags tagging along?" he offered, turning briefly to face the others. All of them looked to consider this, but Brian was the first to stand up, soon followed by Claire and Andrew. The Basket-Case was the last to leave, hurrying after them when they all crept out of the door.

They walked in a small group, Bender and Aideen taking up the front with Claire and Andrew just behind them. The Basket-Case and Brian brought up the rear of the rag-tag team of delinquents. Claire suddenly thought of something and bit her lip, speeding up her pace to walk with John and Aideen. Andrew gave her a questioning look, to which she rolled her eyes and tapped John's shoulder.

"How do you know where Vernon went?" she asked snappily.

"I don't," he admitted with a shrug and her eyes widened.

"Well then, how do you know when he'll be back?" she demanded to know, but Bender just grinned.

"I don't," he repeated, turning and smirking down at Aideen, "Being bad feels pretty good, huh?" the Criminal suggested. Eyebrows pulled together, Brian approached Andrew.

"What's the point in going to Bender's locker?" he asked the Athlete.

"Beats me," the teen shrugged in reply.

"This is so stupid," sighed Brian, "Why do you think – Why are we risking getting caught?"

"I dunno," Andrew sighed, his eyes narrowing in annoyance.

"So, then, what are we doing?" asked the Nerd.

"You ask me one more question," the Jock scowled, "and I'm beating the shit out of you!"

"Sorry," Brian apologised meekly. They finally made it to John's locker and he let go of Aideen's hand, opening the door while moving her back from it. A home-made guillotine fell, shocking the redhead, and John ignored it as he opened the top compartment of his locker.

"Slob!" the Athlete accused, wrinkling his nose as John pulled out a large, mouldy bag.

"My maid's on vacation," John replied sarcastically. Out of this bag he pulled a smaller one, and then a smaller one, and finally a bag of marijuana.

"Drugs," Brian realised in whispered awe.

"Screw that Bender," growled Andrew, "Put it back!" he demanded, but John ignored him as he took Aideen's wrist again and walked back towards the library.

"Drugs," the Nerd repeated, "The boy had marijuana," he squeaked. Looking at him once, Claire rolled her eyes and walked after Aideen and John. "That was marijuana!" said Brain again, hoping that someone besides him cared.

"Shut up!" snapped Andrew, shoving away from the lockers and briskly following the other three. Brian then looked at the Basket-Case, who was standing there with her mouth open in shock.

"Do you approve of this?" he asked her. She slowly closed her mouth, but Brian turned and left before she could answer. Frustrated at being ignored, the Basket-Case stole the lock from John locker, dropping it into her bag before taking off after the others.

"We'll cross through the lab, and then we'll double back," said John to the five following him.

"You better be right," warned Andrew. "If Vernon cuts us off it's your fault, asshole!"

"What'd he say?" asked Brian, directing his question to Claire, "Where're we going?"

Before Claire could answer, everyone stopped, seeing Principal Vernon down one of the halls. Eyes widening, John pulled Aideen down the hall, the others following, but they once again skidded to a halt, scrambling in the other direction, when Principal Vernon appeared in this hallway as well. After a few more attempts to escape their oblivious Principal, Bender stopped the procession in their tracks.

"Wait! Wait, hold it! Hold it!" he said, his grip still firm on Aideen's wrist, "We have to go through the cafeteria!" he told them. Andrew stepped up to disagree.

"No, the activities hall," he challenged.

"Hey man, you don't know what you're talking about!" warned the Criminal.

"No, you don't know what you're talking about!" the Athlete yelled back. Aideen shrunk away from him and John scowled while the Basket-Case squeaked in urgency. "Now we're through listening to you, we're going this way," he said finally, leading everyone in the direction he chose. John and Aideen, since he was still holding her, stood behind until the Basket-Case prompted them to move, stomping her feet and running after the others.

"Is this the wrong way?" asked Aideen innocently. John just sighed as they continued, eventually coming to an iron-gate blocking off the Activities Hall.

"Shit!" swore Andrew, banging on the gate.

"Great idea, Jack-off!" yelled Bender sarcastically.

"Fuck you!" yelled Andrew in reply.

"Fuck you!" interrupted Claire shrilly, glaring at Andrew, "Why didn't you listen to John?"

"We're dead!" groaned Brian. Aideen bit her lip and looked worried. John looked down at her and tightened his grip on her wrist for a brief moment before letting go altogether. She looked up at him in questioned and he just shrugged, smiling slightly.

"No, just me," said John, replying to Brian's previous statement.

"What do you mean?" asked the Nerd. Shaking his head, John placed his hands behind his neck and sighed.

"Get back to the library," he told them, stepping forwards and putting his bag of marijuana into Brian's trousers, "Keep your unit on this!" he warned, "And look after Angel Face for me, alright?" he smirked, tapping her on the chin before running off, singing _I Wanna be an Airborne Ranger_.

Aideen starred after him in awe for a moment before she was tugged along by Brian. The five remaining members of the Saturday detention ran off to the library, taking advantage of John's distraction. Unable to do much else but go with them, Aideen smiled slightly.

"Thank you," she whispered.


	5. Forgot My Pencil

Chapter Five

Not even five minutes after they had all sat back in their seats did Principal Vernon re-enter the library, shove John in with him. Bender looked positively depressed – stumbling as he was pushed again – but there was an undoubtedly gleeful aura surrounding him. Aideen watched with wide eyes as the Criminal smirked, winking at her, before adopting his dismal expression again.

"Get your stuff, let's go!" the Principal ordered as John walked to his previous desk, gathering his belongings. He then turned to everyone else, "Mr Wise-Guy here has taken it upon himself to go to the gymnasium. I'm sorry to inform you, you're going to be without his services for the rest of the day," he said. Aideen's eyes widened and she looked to John, who snorted.

"B-O-O H-O-O," he sneered.

"Everything's a big joke, huh Bender?" scoffed Principal Vernon, "The false alarm you pulled, Friday?" he hummed, allowing the others to know what John had done to land himself in Saturday detention, "False alarms are really funny, aren't they? What if your home – What if your family," he paused, rolling his eyes slightly, "What if your _dope_ was on fire?"

"Impossible, sir," John began innocently, "It's in Johnson's underwear," he told him with all honesty. Andrew laughed out loud while everyone else sniggered at the unhidden truth.

"You think he's funny?" the Principal barked at the Athlete, "You think this is cute? You think he's 'bitching', is that it? Lemme tell you something; look at him, he's a bum," he sneered. Turning, he addressed everyone, "You wanna see something funny? You go visit John Bender in five years! You'll see how God damned funny he is!" the man yelled, turning this time to John, "What's the matter, John? You gonna cry?" he sneered and Aideen gasped, glaring at the Principal, "Let's go," he ordered, grabbing John's shoulder.

"Hey keep your fuckin' hands off me!" warned the teen loudly, batting the man's hand away. "I expect better manners from you, Dick!" he mocked. Bender took his sunglasses out of his pocket and laid them in front of Andrew. "For better hallway vision!" he said, referring to Andrew's lapse in judgement. "See ya later, Sweetheart!" he called to Aideen, leaving the library but not before pushing stuff over on the way.

"Keep quiet, or you'll join him," warned Vernon, following John out; "And someone pick up these books!" he added before the door closed.

"Well, that's just great!" yelled Andrew, standing from his seat and sitting on the desk, running his hands through his hair.

"Cool it, would ya?" the Princess sighed, rolling her eyes as she checked her nails, "It's your fault he's in that mess."

"Like I care," Andrew sneered. Seeing that their argument was going nowhere fast, Aideen stood from her seat and walked to the front desk, picking up the books John had pushed off and putting them back where they came from. The other four watched her with odd looks on their face and she turned, biting her lip.

"I got bored," she whispered as an explanation, hurrying back to her seat. A thoughtful look crossed the face of the Basket-Case and she stood, pulling her bag strap across her chest and clutching the satchel as she scurried towards the front row, sitting in the seat beside Aideen.

"Hi," she said quietly, not meeting the redhead's gaze. Aideen smiled weakly.

"Hi," she replied, her eyes directed to the desk.

"I'm Allison," the Basket-Case introduced. "Everyone else said their names, and I remembered that you and I didn't."

"Oh, right," nodded the girl, "I'm Aideen."

"I know you!" yelled Claire suddenly, standing from her seat and pointing a finger at Aideen.

"Yeah, she's the exchange student," Brain said, shaking his head. "I thought her accent would've made it obvious."

"Not that, genius" the Princess frowned, blushing at the insinuation that she was stupid, "I remember seeing you in my Art class, but aren't you in the grade below us?"

"I – I'm in some AP classes," replied Aideen, her cheeks turning pink at the new-found attention. Allison smirked in a friendly way, pulling a sketchpad out of her bag and flipping through a few of the pages until she came across her most recently completed work – something she had finished a few hours earlier.

"I'm an artist, too," Allison told her, sliding the sketchbook over to Aideen. The younger girl observed the work with a smile.

"You're very good," she compliment, rooting around in her own bag until she came across a smaller sketchpad, A4 whereas Allison's was A3. "I'm better at portraits and stuff than landscapes," she explained, handing the sketch over to the charcoal-artist, who also smiled.

"Cool," nodded Allison, handing the book back while putting her own away in her large bag, "Maybe sometime you could draw me, and I could come over draw your house," she laughed quietly. Aideen smiled weakly, but didn't laugh.

"Oh shit!" they heard from the back of the library, followed quickly by a loud _bang_ and more cursing. Everyone swirled around to the noise, their eyes wide as John casually strolled down the stairs towards his desk.

"I forgot my pencil," he said as an explanation, grinning as he winked at Aideen again. Suddenly, more cursing was heard – this time from the hall – and John was quick to duck under Aideen's table as Allison darted back towards her own.

"What in God's name is going on in here?" demanded their Principal as he burst into the room, "What was that ruckus?"

"Uh," Andrew stuttered, "what ruckus?"

"I was just in my office and I heard a ruckus!" continued Principal Vernon, looking around at the group to spy out a weak link that might break, telling him the truth.

"Could you describe the ruckus, sir?" asked Brian in all seriousness while everyone else tried not to even smile.

"Watch your tongue young man," the Principal warned, "Watch it!" he snapped, and suddenly there was a bang from under Aideen's table.

"Argh!" groaned John, rubbing his head under the table. Thinking quickly, Andrew bangs on the table a few times, but when John returns the bangs the Athlete is forced to continue, wrapping it up with a zipping sound that made Aideen giggle.

"What is that?" asked their Principal suspiciously, "What, what is that, what is that noise?" he demanded to know. Suddenly, Aideen's eyes widened and she stiffened. John's hand was running along the outside of her thigh.

"What noise?" questioned Andrew; he said this as innocently as he could.

"Really, sir, there wasn't any noise," added Claire.

"Eep!" squeaked Aideen, lifting her foot and slamming it down where she knew John's other hands to be. He yelled out in pain, pulling his fingers from under her boot, and everyone started coughing to cover up the sound, Aideen included.

"That noise?" asked Claire, glancing at the flustered and red-faced Aideen quickly, "Was that the noise you were talking about?" she continued. Aideen daren't look under the table to glare at the Criminal, but John's hands remained with him and he didn't touch her leg again.

"No, it wasn't," rejected Principal Vernon, "That was not the noise I was talking about. Now, I may not have caught you in the act this time, but you can bet I will."

"Ha!" burst Allison, who had been holding in her laugh since Andrew had begun banging on the table.

"You may book on that, missy!" yelled Principal Vernon, shaking a warning finger in Allison's direction. "And you!" he added, turning to Claire, "I will not be made a fool of!" the man finished, turning to leave. Everyone choked on muffled laughter when they saw that he had a toilet seat cover stuck to his pants.

As soon as the doors closed behind the Principal, Aideen pulled her chair back for John to crawl out from under the table. She bit her lip, face red and tears of embarrassment in her eyes as he stood up. When John saw her face he swallowed hard, guiltily – he knew Aideen wouldn't appreciate his wandering hands, but he neglected to consider how sensitive she was. Now here she was, almost crying, and he felt like a jerk.

"It was an accident," he muttered and she sniffed.

"You're an asshole!" accused Claire, standing quickly and pushing him away from Aideen, slapping his arms a few times for good measure. Knowing he deserved it, John did nothing to stop her.

"So sue me," he snapped, not feeling so gentle when it came to the Princess of the group. He cast one more look at Aideen before sighed and walking over to Brian, "So, Ahab," John said, getting his attention, "Can I get my doobage?" he requested, holding out his hand.

"O-Oh," Brian mumbled, unzipping his trousers and reaching in, pulling out the bag of marijuana. Bender took it, holding it in the corner between his thumb and index finger, before walking towards the back of the library.

"Yo, Wasteoid!" yelled Andrew, his face contorted in anger, "You're not gonna blaze up in here!" he said, but John ignored him. Everyone sat silently for a moment before Claire stood up – not paying attention to the look Andrew was giving her – and walked after John. Andrew turned his glare to Brain, who had stood up almost as soon as Claire left.

"I – I'm just," Brian stuttered, "I'm gonna...Yeah," he finished incoherently, standing and following after the Criminal and the Princess. Sitting for a few more moments, Andrew slammed his hands on the desk.

"Shit," he cursed under his breath, standing and joining the three. Allison watched him go longingly, but was not willing to follow and get high. Aideen, who shared the sentiment of not wanting to smoke any marijuana – knowing how bad it was for her – remained at her desk as well.

"It sucks being the good ones," Allison called to her with a small smile. The redhead looked back and returned the gesture.

"Totally," she agreed.


	6. Getting To Know You

Chapter Six

Brian, John and Claire sat in a circle, laughing hysterically. The girl of the trio leant over to John with a spliff between her lips, allowing him to light it for her before she leant back, a smile on her face as she inhaled. Not two seconds later, she was coughing and spluttering, prompting both John and Brian to laugh at her and she tried again. The Brain, wearing Bender's sunglasses, exhaled his smoke, starring at it for a moment before attempting to catch it back in his mouth, his teeth clicking together.

"Chicks cannot hold der smoke!" he exclaimed in a strange voice, "That's what it is," Brian concluded. Claire sat up and cleared her throat.

"Do you know how popular I am?" she asked and John raised an eyebrow, "I'm so popular, everybody loves me so much, at this school..."

"Poor baby," the Criminal said, rolling his eyes and looking back over to where Allison and Aideen were sitting. He almost walked over and picked her up, carrying her back to join the fun, like he did last time – somehow, though, he knew that she wouldn't appreciate it. After all, drugs are a lot more serious than some questionable reading material.

Brian waved Claire over to him and he fell over, getting up in just enough time to watch Andrew emerge from a smoky reading room, a spliff in his mouth. After one more inhale, he flicked it away and started dancing, taking off his jacket and t-shirt, leaving him in only his white vest. Brian and Claire applauded when he started to dance, running around the upper level of the library, hitting her flags and vaulting over the bookcases. Finally, he walked back into the reading room, closing the door and screaming, shattering the weak glass.

"Be right back," John told the duo as Andrew walked out of the room again, leaping down the stairs two at a time and joining the Princess and the Brain in the seating area. Spying his target, John paused a moment as he watched her and Allison talking.

"Really?" the Irish girl smiled, leaning in closer to the Basket Case. Her jacket was back on, thanks to a small chill, and her bag was strapped over her shoulder; she had apparently either forgotten to take it off, or had only recently moved to sit with Allison.

"That's what he said," she nodded, smirking as she leant back. Not at all sorry to interrupt 'girl-talk', John strode over and took Aideen's arm, pulling her with him to the back of the library, but away from the others.

"What are you doing?" asked the redhead, a wavering of worry in her voice that almost made John feel guilty. Once they were sufficiently far from everyone else, he stopped and let her go.

"I don't even know your name," he told her as way of an explanation, sitting down on the floor and tugging her down to sit with him, "so we're gonna get to know one another, okay?"

"Like what?" she asked cautiously. Rolling his eyes, John reached over and took her bag, pulling it open. "Hey!" yelled Aideen, reaching over to take it back. All John did was hold it out of her reach, one hand ruffling through it blindly, "That's my stuff! You can't just root through a person's belongings!" she told him angrily. Smirking at her, his hand met what he was looking for.

"Ah-ha!" he cried in triumph, giving her bag back as he pulled out her wallet, watching her expression turn from anger to shock.

"How did you...?" she trailed off, trying to figure out how he had managed to distinguish her wallet through touch alone.

"Name: Aideen Campbell; Age: 16," he paused, looking up at her, "Well no wonder I've never seen you before! You're in the year below me," the teen continued, looking back at her ID. "Never pegged you for a junior," he muttered after a moment and Aideen frowned.

"I'm surprised you're actually a senior," she shot right back. John's eyes widened and he looked at her with a half-grin.

"Some mouth you've got on you, Angel Face," he breathed, leaning closer. "I thought, after all the squeaks and red-face moments that you were some sweet, shy little Daddy's Girl," he chuckled, but his amusement dried up at the sight of her enraged face.

"You don't know the first thing about me," she hissed at him, snatching her wallet back and shoving it into her bag. Standing, Aideen turned to leave but was stopped by John's hand around her wrist. He was still sat down, giving her a serious look.

"Then tell me," he urged. She avoided his eyes, looking everywhere but in John's direction; he sighed, taking her chin and turning her to face him. "Tell me," the teen repeated. Aideen bit her lip and she moved her chin away from his hand, slowing pulling off her gloves.

"You're not the only one with scars," she whispered, showing him her bare hands and he frowned, taking one of them and tracing the spider web marks marring the skin of her palms.

"How did it happen?" he asked, not looking away from her hand. She smiled weakly and pulled her hand away, putting her gloves back on quickly and rubbing her legs. John didn't miss this and stared at her, "Your legs, too?" he asked and she nodded.

"I live with a foster family," she told him and John winced – he now felt bad about the 'Daddy's girl' comment. "They're good to me – I love my brothers and Jessica is nice enough, and so is Edward. My real parents abandoned me when I was a baby; I was too young to remember them, really. The first people I knew as my 'parents' were named Margret and Paul McLaren – they were older people, but from time-to-time they would take in orphans between homes, like me. I loved them _so_ much," she told him, smiling fondly as she opened her wallet, plucking out a picture from behind the one of her current family and handing it to him.

"This them?" he asked, looking at the slightly charred picture of an elderly couple and a young – probably only four-years-old – Aideen. She nodded with a smile. John connected the burnt photograph with her scars as he handed it back.

"When they died – of old age – I was still in their care," she told him, her voice quiet as she looked at the photo once more before putting it back in her wallet fondly. "It was my next home that was awful, y'see. They just took us lot in for the money, not for love; me 'nd five other girls shared a room, while there were three boys that slept in the living room – it were only a two bedroom house, y'see, and the couple took the other room. One of the boys started the fire, to get out; the man was a drunk, a used to hit us from time to time – I was still new when we got out, so I was never really on the receiving end, but I saw it often enough."

"That fire was where you got...?" he trailed off, gesturing to her hands and legs while Aideen nodded.

"Aye," she replied. "We were told to get out quickly, but that photo of Margret and Paul was still in my room, under my mattress. I went back in to get it, but the fire was spreading so fast. A fireman got me out in the end, but I was in hospital for burns on my hands, arms, legs, and stomach. It was worse on my hands and legs – the rest healed well, but you can still sort of make out the scars if you really look for them."

"Were you put with, umm," he paused, trying to remember the names she had used, "err, Jessica and Edward...after that?" the teen asked, knowing he had the names right because Aideen nodded when he named them. After the question, though, she shook her head.

"I was juggled around a wee bit," the redhead smiled. "There were about four families between the ages of six, when I left the hospital, and twelve, when I was taken in my Edward and Jessica. It's not uncommon at all for a kid to be moved around so much, but it was still hard – new people every time, a new place. Though this is the first time I've been shipped out of Ireland, and that's only because I was with the family for more than a month when they decided to move."

"So you're happy with them?" asked John, moving closer to her. Aideen thought for a moment, a smile on her face, before she nodded.

"Yes," she said truthfully, looking John in the eye. "They're great – they look after me, watch over me, and make sure I'm setting myself up well for when I turn eighteen." The girl stopped, thinking her story over, before moving up closer to John until the two were leaning on each other and she spoke, "What about you? Anything to tell me?" she smiled. John laughed, emptying his pockets and handing her his wallet.

"Dig away," he offered as the girl opened it. John pulled her bag to him, looking at her for permission – which she granted – before going through it, putting her wallet back inside. He pulled out her lipstick, uncapping it and winding it out until it almost broke, before he wound it back up and capped it again, dumping it back in her bag.

"Who're these girls?" asked Aideen, flicking through the pictures he had in his wallet. John looked up, frowning, as he leaned over and had a look.

"Girlfriends," he shrugged, going back to her bag, "Ex-girlfriends, potential-girlfriends. Some friends, some not friends – celebrities I think are hot. Y'know, typical stuff," John explained. Nodding, Aideen put the photos back and John gave her a look.

"What?" she asked; the girl was pulling out his ID without looking as she tilted her head in response to his look. John smiled.

"Aren't you gonna check to see if your picture's there?" he asked, leaning closer to her.

"Is it?" she questioned, raising an eyebrow. John shrugged.

"It might be," he said calmly and she laughed, causing him to smile.

"I doubt it," Aideen finalised easily. "You probably didn't know I existed before today," she giggled. Almost bashfully, John turned back to her bag. "So, don't you believe in monogamy?"

"Mono-what?" asked John, snorting and pulling out new _Smash Hits_ magazine from her bag. He flicked through it with a bored look on his face.

"Monogamy," Aideen explained, putting his ID back after reading it and placing down his wallet. She then began looking through the other stuff he had taken out of his pockets. "It means, like, one guy for one girl – no cheating in relationships, and that kinda stuff," the girl continued and John looked at her over the magazine.

"Do you believe in that kinda stuff?" he asked curiously and Aideen shrugged.

"I guess," she confessed, "but within reason. It should only happen when two people are perfect for each other, because if they are then there shouldn't _need_ to be anyone else."

"Makes sense," he shrugged, "but that's just not for me." Aideen looked at him as he put her magazine back in her back.

"Any reason, or just because?" she asked, giving him an out if he didn't want to answer. Appreciating it, John smiled.

"Just because," he replied. The two were quiet as Aideen shifted through the random things John kept in his pockets, including cigarettes, his matches, the rest of his marijuana – which she placed to one side as she sorted through it – as well as a pack of bubblegum and a small A7-sized notepad with lined paper and a pencil that had been sharpened down until it was the size of her little finger. She held them up with a smile, looking at him curiously.

"What's with these?" she asked and John looked up, "You don't seem the type to need to take notes all the time," the girl giggled. Bender reached over and flipped the notepad open, showing her the first page.

"Numbers and names," he grinned as she read over it, seeing the numbers of twenty or so girls over the first three pages, but then it was blank. "Want to add yours?" asked John slyly, handing her the pencil. Aideen smiled, but shook her head.

"I don't want to be one of a handful," she laughed, handing him back the notepad. He took it with a frown, ripping out the pages that had numbers on them and tearing them up, sprinkling the ripped up paper on the floor around them while Aideen looked at him in shock.

"Now you'll be the only one," he assured her gently, handing it back. Shaking her head softly, Aideen gave in and wrote her number down quickly. She looked at John sternly as she handed the pad back.

"Don't call just because you're bored," she warned him and he grinned innocently.

"Now, why would I do that?" he questioned, throwing an arm around her shoulders and pulling her into his side. Aideen rested her head on his shoulder and they relaxed slightly, but jumped apart when they heard the others – who they had forgotten about in their talking – approaching them.

"Hey, guys," greeted Brian as he walked over with Claire, the boy sitting by the banister while the girl rested on the pillar near it. John was leaning on the opposite post and Aideen was kneeling between the two as Andrew and Allison joined them, the Athlete sitting across from Aideen and beside Brian as the Basket-Case sat between Andrew and John.

"What where you talking about?" asked Claire, looking between the Loner and the Criminal. They exchanged small smiles.

"Nothing," the two mumbled, looking away.


	7. The Million Dollar Question

Chapter Seven

"What would I do for a million bucks?" considered Andrew, looking around the group as he pondered. "Well, I guess I'd do as little as I had to," he shrugged in reply.

"That's boring," accused Claire, rolling her eyes.

"Well, how am I s'posed to answer?" he responded, insulted. The Athlete frowned at the Princess and she huffed, laughing a little as she shrugged.

"The idea is to, like search your mind for the absolute limit. Like, umm," she told him clearly, a smile forming on her face as she thought of an example and turned to him. "Would you drive to school naked?" she asked, spurring a laugh from the Athlete.

"Um, uh," he paused, weighing up his options. "Would I have to get out of the car?" he asked.

"Of course," nodded Claire. Everyone smiled, watching the way the conversation was going. John looked over at Aideen, but when she looked back – feeling his stare – he quickly looked at Claire, pretending he had been looking at the Princess all along.

"In the spring?" the Athlete continued to question, "Or winter?"

"It doesn't matter," replied Claire, shaking her head, "spring," she shrugged.

"In front of the school or in back of the school?" he asked.

"Either one," she decided. Andrew thought for a moment and nodded.

"Yeah," he stated firmly. Claire's eyes widened, not expecting that answer, and she laughed.

"Well, it _is_ a million bucks," shrugged Aideen, smiling at the two. Claire nodded in agreement.

"I'd do that," said Allison suddenly. Everyone turned to her, taking a moment to process her words, and she continued, "I'll do anything sexual, I don't need a million dollars to do it, either," she said quickly. No one spoke for a while, until Claire frowned cautiously and rolled her eyes.

"You're lying," she accused easily.

"I already have," Allison persisted, shrugging. "I've done just about everything there is, except a few things that are illegal," she told the Princess. Andrew smiled in amusement and Allison leaned in further, "I'm a nymphomaniac," she concluded. Rolling her eyes again, Claire scoffed.

"Lie," she muttered. Aideen tilted her head slightly, not really believing Allison but at the same time worried that it was true – from the look on John's face, he half-believed her, too. Brian had no trouble voicing his concerns about the Basket Case's apparent escapades.

"Are your parents aware of this?" he asked, his tone suggesting that he'd tell them if they weren't. Allison bit her lip and looked down, seemingly ashamed.

"The only person I told was my shrink," she admitted, leaning back again. Now fully drawn into her tale, Andrew spoke up.

"And what's he do when you told him?" he asked, his eyebrows pulling together as he leaned closer to the Basket Case. She looked up, an impish smile crossing her face.

"He nailed me," she boasted.

"Very nice," scoffed Claire. Aideen, wide-eyed, looked between the Basket Case and the rest of the group until her eyes fell on John, who shrugged.

"I don't think from a legal standpoint what he did can be construed as rape, since I paid him," Allison continued.

"He's an adult!" burst Claire, looking offended at the suggestion and slightly disturbed by the tale Allison was telling.

"Yeah," nodded the darker-haired girl, still smiling slightly, "He's married, too."

"Do you have any idea how completely gross that is?" noted Claire in disgust, but Allison seemed nonchalant about the situation.

"Well, the first few times," she shrugged.

"First few times?" yelped the pink-wearing redhead, "You mean he did it more than once?"

"Sure," nodded Allison and Aideen blinked, the story started to being less realistic in her mind. Still, she could never be too sure, and Allison seemed completely serious.

"Are you crazy?" accused Claire, her eyes narrowed at the Basket Case.

"Obviously she's crazy," scoffed Brian, "if she's screwing her shrink."

"Leave her alone," snapped Aideen, glaring at the Brain. He bit his lip guiltily and looked away.

"Have you ever done it?" asked Allison, speaking directly to Claire. This seemed to grab everyone's attention, as the boys were now looking at Claire with interest. Aideen rolled her eyes and leaned back on her hands, her legs still tucked under her.

"I don't even have a psychiatrist," replied Claire, dodging the real question.

"Have you ever done it with a normal person?" Allison smirked, not letting Claire out of answering this particular question. Aideen sighed, glad that she had not been faced with such a personal question, while also feeling sorry for Claire that this enquiry kept coming up about her.

"Now, didn't we already cover this?" asked the Princess nervously, still trying to avoid answering. Unfortunately for her, it seemed John had picked up the topic, and raised his eyebrows.

"You never answered the question," he told her, seemingly bored but with a hint of amusement in his tone.

"Look, I'm not gonna discuss my personal life with total strangers," Claire shot back, looking away from all of them and crossing her arms angrily across her chest.

"It's kind of a double-edged sword, isn't it?" quipped Allison, her smile gone.

"A what?" asked Aideen; she was suddenly interested. Allison shrugged.

"Well, if you say you haven't, you're a prude," she replied, looking between the two redheads, "If you say you have, you're a slut. It's a trap," she sighed, seemingly despondent. "You want to, but you can't; but when you do, you wish you didn't, right?" she prompted.

"Wrong," scowled Claire, unwilling to admit the truth in Allison statement. The other redhead said nothing, and didn't nod or shake her head. She figured that the best way to avoid the question was to ignore the question.

"Or are you a tease?" suggested Allison. Andrew laughed once, nodding.

"She's a tease," he spoke.

"Oh, why don't you just forget it," barked Claire, irritated.

"You're a tease and you know it," he accused outright, "All girls are teases!" he announced. Aideen tilted her head, looking to John. He shrugged and turned to Andrew.

"She's only a tease if what she does gets you hot," he commented. The Criminal turned back to Aideen and smiled slightly, kindly.

"I don't do anything!" yelped Claire, unhappy about everyone – except the quiet Irish girl – ganging up on her.

"Exactly," nodded Allison. "That's why you're a tease."

"Okay, lemme ask you a few questions," challenged the Princess. Allison sat straight, suddenly defensive.

"I've already told you everything!" she replied, her eyes darting around.

"No!" rejected Claire, "Doesn't it bother you to sleep around without being in love?" she asked reproachfully. "I mean, don't you want any respect?"

"I don't screw to get respect," Allison retorted, turning the argument onto Claire again, "That's the difference between you and me."

"Not the only difference, I hope," hissed the Princess. Aideen glared at her, not liking the tone she was using against her friend – regardless of the conversation Allison had started.

"Face it, you're a tease!" groaned John, getting tired of the topic.

"I'm not a tease!" shrieked the redhead.

"Sure you are!" disagreed John, "You said it yourself: Sex is a weapon, you use it to get respect."

"No, I never said that!" cried Claire, "She twisted my words around!"

"Oh, then what _do_ you use it for?" he continued, not letting up even when Aideen looked at him pleadingly, seeing how upset Claire was getting.

"I don't use it," she cried, on the verge of tears, "Period!"

"Oh, are you medically frigid or is it psychological?" he scoffed and Aideen sent him a scolding look, which he ignored.

"I didn't mean it that way!" the Princess said, "You guys are putting words into my mouth!"

"Well, if you'd just answer the question," he suggested.

"Why don't you just answer the question?" pressured Brian.

"Be honest," prompted Andrew. The boys continued to badger her, Allison and Aideen remaining quiet, until Claire burst.

"No!" she screamed, "I never did it!" the girl said honestly. She breathed heavily with the effort of her loud yell and everyone was quiet for a moment.

"I never did it either," confessed Allison and everyone turned to her with wide eyes. "I'm not a nymphomaniac, I'm a compulsive liar," she told everyone, her impish smile back in place. Aideen laughed at the confession, but Claire was less than amused.

"You are such a bitch!" she yelled. "You did that on purpose just to fuck me over!"

"I _would_ do it, though," she continued softly. "If you love someone, it's okay."

"I can't believe you," groaned Claire, "you're so weird. You don't say anything all day, and then when you open your mouth you unload all these tremendous lies all over me! Oh, and why me; why not her?" she continued, pointing to Aideen suddenly. John sat up from the post, almost daring anyone to say a bad thing about the Irish redhead.

"Because it's pretty obvious," Allison said, rolling her eyes. "She's nice and sweet, and obviously never done it. You're a tease, so it was more of a mystery."

"So I act like a slut or something?" hissed Claire. Andrew spoke up at this point, rolling his eyes.

"You're just pissed off because she got you to admit something you didn't want to admit," Andrew noticed, brushing off her whining.

"Okay, fine," admitted Claire, "But that doesn't make it any less bizarre."

"What's bizarre?" the Athlete questioned, "I mean we're all pretty bizarre! Some of us are just better at hiding it, that's all," he shrugged. Claire bit her lip and looked at him.

"How are you bizarre?" she asked, not believing what he said. Allison looked up, deciding to field that question.

"He can't think for himself," she responded. Andrew looked at her for a moment before nodding slowly, coming to the same conclusion.

"She's right," he agreed. "Do you guys know what, uh," he cleared his throat, looking nervous and guilty, "what I did to get in here? I taped Larry Lester's buns together," he told them. Claire laughed, but she was the only one.

"That was you?" asked Brian in shock, looking appalled.

"Yeah, you know him?" question the Athlete. The Brain narrowed his eyes, scoffing.

"Yeah, I know him," he replied, sneering slightly.

"Well then you know how hairy he is, right?" asked Andrew and Aideen winced, putting the story together in her mind. John, on the other hand, grinned at the Athlete, "Well, when they pulled the tape off, most of his hair came off and some, some skin too," he looked down, shame covering his face.

"Oh my God," gasped Claire, suddenly guilty for laughing.

"And the bizarre thing is, is that I did it for my old man," he said, a haunted look crossing his face and he frowned. "I tortured this poor kid, because I wanted him to think that I was _cool_. He's always going off about – y'know, when he was in school, all the wild things he used to do. And I got the feeling that he was disappointed that I never cut loose on anyone, right?" he paused. "So, I'm...I'm sitting in the locker room, and I'm taping up my knee. And Larry's undressing a couple lockers down from me. Yeah, he's kinda – he's kinda skinny, weak. And I started thinking about my father, and his attitude about weakness. And the next thing I knew, I uh, I jumped on top of him and started wailing on him."

Aideen looked down, sighing slightly as she recalled hearing about Larry.

Allison looked sympathetic, but also interested in the story.

John's face was blank, but his eyes seemed slightly distant.

Brian was cringing along with the story, obviously recalling times when he was bullied.

Claire seemed upset, but was having a hard time relating.

"And my friends, they just laughed and cheered me on. And afterwards, when I was sittin' in Vernon's office, all I could think about was Larry's father," he paused, taking a deep breath, "And Larry havin' to go home and – and explain what happened to him; and the humiliation – the fucking humiliation he must've felt. It must've been unreal. I mean," he was crying by this point, consumed by guilt, "I mean, how d'you apologize for something like that? There's no way; it's all because of me and my old man. Oh God, I fucking hate him!" he cried.

"It's okay," Allison soothed slightly, not reaching out to comfort Andrew but prompting him to continue.

"He's like this," he paused, sneering, "He's like this mindless machine that I can't even relate to anymore. 'Andrew, you've got to be number one!'" he yelled, impersonating his father, "'I won't tolerate any losers in this family. Your intensity is for shit! Win. Win! Win!'" he sniffed, rubbing his eyes. "You son of a bitch!" he yelled, thinking about his father before looking around at the others again, "You know, sometimes, I wish my knee would give – and I wouldn't be able to wrestle anymore. And he could forget all about me."

Everyone was silent for a moment, taking in what Andrew had just told them with mixed opinions. It was Bender who finally broke the silence.

"I think your old man and my old man should get together and go bowling," he said jokingly, but with little humour. Andrew laughed briefly.

"It's like me, you know," Brian spoke up, gaining the group's attention, "with my grades – like, when I, when I step outside myself kinda, and when I, when I look in at myself you know? And I see me and I don't like what I see, I really don't."

"What's wrong with you?" asked Claire, genuinely confused. "Why don't you like yourself?" she questioned. The girl herself, in the short period of time she had known him in, hadn't found anything about Brian she seriously didn't like.

"Because I'm stupid," he said, choking on a sob, "'cause I'm failing shop. See we had this assignment, to make this ceramic elephant, and um – and we had eight weeks to do it and we're s'posed ta – and it was like a lamp, and when you pull the trunk the light was s'posed to go on," he sighed, "My light didn't go on, I got a 'F' on it. I've never got an 'F' in my life. When I signed up – you know, for the course I mean – I thought I was playing it real smart, you know. 'Cause, I thought, I'll take shop; it'll be such an easy way to maintain my grade point average."

"Why'd you think it'd be easy?" asked John, frowning – he was clearly agitated by Brian's words.

"Have you seen some of the dopes that take shop?" snorted Brian, rolling his eyes slightly.

"I take shop," announced John and the atmosphere became even more awkward than before. "You must be a fuckin' idiot!" he accused.

"I'm a fuckin' idiot because I can't make a lamp?" yelled Brian.

"No, you're a genius because you can't make a lamp," scoffed John, shaking his head at the Brain.

"What do you know about Trigonometry?" challenged Brian. John scoffed again and sneered at the smartest person in the group.

"I couldn't care less about Trigonometry," he stated.

"Bender, did you know without Trigonometry there'd be no engineering?" the Brain informed him.

"Without lamps, there'd be no light!" followed John, a triumphant look on his face.

"Okay so neither one of you is any better than the other one," Claire cut in before the fight continued. Feeling left out, Allison took it upon herself to change the topic.

"I can write with my toes," she told them randomly and everyone looked at her, surprise on their faces, "I can also eat, and brush my teeth..." she trailed off, impressed looks appearing around the group.

"With your feet?" asked Claire, seeming interested but also a little disturbed.

"...play Heart & Soul on the piano," continued the Basket Case.

"I can make spaghetti," smiled Brian happily.

"What can you do?" asked Aideen, looking at Andrew with a smile. He looked thoughtful for a moment before he smiled slightly.

"I can, uh, tape all your buns together," he offered and everyone laughed a little.

"I wanna see what Claire can do!" said John suddenly. Claire looked over at him and shrugged slightly, smiling.

"I can't do anything," she told him, shaking her head.

"Now, everybody can do something," John replied in a patronising tone, causing Claire to narrow her eyes.

"There's one thing I can do," she said, but then became slightly bashful and shook her head again. "No forget it; it is way too embarrassing," she laughed.

"Have you ever seen 'Wild Kingdom'?" asked John without warning, "I mean that guy's been doing that show for thirty years," he added.

"Okay, but you have to swear to God you won't laugh," she said to everyone, pulling her back closer, "I can't believe I'm actually doing this," she muttered, taking out her lipstick and opening it. She placed it between her breasts and applies the lipstick from her cleavage, lifting her head to reveal perfectly-applied lipstick. Impressed, everyone clapped, but John's was slow and sarcastic.

"All right, great!" smiled Andrew, "Where'd you learn to do that?"

"Camp, seventh grade," Claire grinned, before capping her lipstick and putting it away again.

"What camp?" giggled Aideen, and the other redhead laughed with her.

"That was great, Claire," John said slowly and condescendingly, "My image of you is totally blown."

"You're a shit!" yelled Allison, scowling at him, "Don't do that to her – you swore to God you wouldn't laugh!"

"Am I laughing?" John sneered, shaking his head and rolling his eyes.

"You fucking prick!" accused Andrew, glaring. Slowly, John turned to Andrew and spoke.

"What do you care what I think, anyway?" he asked rhetorically, "I don't even count, right? I could disappear forever and it wouldn't make any difference...I may as well not even exist at this school, remember?" he scoffed, turning this time to Claire. "And you don't like me anyway!" he added.

"You know, I have just as many feelings as you do and it hurts just as much when somebody steps all over them!" she cried, tears in her eyes as his words hit home for both her and Andrew.

"God, you're so pathetic," snarled John, furious, "Don't you ever – ever – compare yourself to me! Okay?" he barked loudly, harshly, "You got everything, and I got shit! Fuckin' Rapunzel, right? School would probably fucking shut down if you didn't show up! 'Queenie isn't here!' I like those earrings Claire," he continued, suddenly changing the direction of his attack.

"Shut up," she whimpered quietly, tears in her eyes.

"Are those real diamonds, Claire?" he cooed mockingly.

"Shut up!" she yelled at him.

"I bet they are," he continued, "Did you work for the money for those earrings?"

"Shut – your – mouth!" she ordered, clearly distraught by his verbal bullying.

"Or did your daddy buy those?" he sneered and Claire began to cry, her tears falling quickly down her face. Aideen looked shocked by John's vicious words.

"Shut up!" she yelled again, this time almost pleadingly as she breathed heavily, but John continued anyway.

"I bet he bought those for you," he said with fake kindness. "I bet those are a Christmas gift, right?" he added, and Claire shook her head to block out what he was saying, "You know what I got for Christmas this year? It was a banner fuckin' year at the old Bender family! I got a carton of cigarettes. The old man grabbed me and said," he paused, grabbing his own collar, "'Hey, smoke up Johnny!' Okay, so go home and cry to your daddy – don't cry here, okay?"

"Jackass," muttered Aideen, shifting over to Claire to comfort her. John looked shocked by the gesture, and insult, but said nothing.

"My God, are we gonna be like our parents?" asked Andrew, looking dismayed by the prospect.

"Not me," sobbed Claire as she and Aideen stopped hugging, "Ever," she assured everyone.

"It's unavoidable," Allison sighed, "it just happens."

"What happens?" asked Claire, wiping away a few tears.

"When you grow up, your heart dies," she replied, on the verge of tears herself.

"Who cares?" snorted John, sinking more heavily into his slouch.

"I care," Allison said, her voice wavering.

"Me too," Aideen sniffed, thinking about the parents she never knew – the ones who abandoned her as a baby. John looked concerned, but knew she wouldn't allow him to pull her over and comfort her.

"Um, I was just thinking," spoke Brian, "I mean, I know it's kind of a weird time, but I was just wondering, um, what is gonna happen to us on Monday? When we're all together again? I mean, I consider you all my friends. I'm not wrong, am I?" he stuttered, looking around hopefully.

"No," Andrew assured him and Brian smiled slightly.

"So, so on Monday – what happens?" he asked, the hope still present in his tone.

"Are we still friends, you mean?" asked Claire, "If we're friends now that is?" she added, looking at John with distaste. He had the decency to look away.

"Yeah," nodded Brian.

"Do you want the truth?" she sniffed, wiping her eyes one final time.

"Yeah, I want the truth," assured the Brain, sitting up straighter. Claire shook her head sadly.

"I don't think so," she told him. Allison snorted.

"Well, do you mean all of us or just John?" she asked, glaring in his direction.

"With all of you," she confessed, looking away. Aideen frowned at her words, scooting further away from Claire and towards Brain, not wanting to be close to John right now.

"That's a real nice attitude, Claire!" clipped Andrew, sneering.

"Oh, be honest, Andy," the Princess glared, "If Brian came walking up to you in the hall on Monday, what would you do? I mean picture this; you're there with all the sports. I know exactly what you'd do, you'd say 'hi' to him and when he left you'd cut him all up so your friends wouldn't think you really liked him!"

"No way," rejected Andrew, but deep down he knew it was true.

"'Kay, what if I came up to you?" asked Allison, a small amount of hope in her tone that she knew was going to be crushed.

"Same exact thing," Claire admitted.

"You are a bitch!" screamed a furious John at Claire. At least Andrew was trying to deny his true nature, while Claire was just putting everyone down and destroying any happy mood they had.

"Why?" she returned harshly, "Because I'm telling the truth – that makes me a bitch?"

"No!" snarled John, "'Cause you know how shitty that is to do to someone! And you don't have the balls to stand up to your friends and tell 'em that you're gonna like who you wanna like!" he accused, but Claire glared back.

"Okay, what about you, you hypocrite!" she yelled right back, "Why don't you take Allison to one of your heavy metal vomit parties? Or take Brian out to the parking lot at lunch to get high? What about Andy for that matter, what about me?" she paused, looking at Aideen, "What about her? What would your friends say if you and she were walking down the hall together?" she sneered, "They'd laugh their asses off and you'd probably tell them you were doing it with her so they'd forgive you for being seen with her."

"Don't you ever talk about my friends!" roared John, still angry, "You don't know any of my friends, you don't look at any of my friends and you certainly wouldn't condescend to speak to any of my friends so you just stick to the things you know; shopping, nail polish, your father's BMW and your poor, rich, drunk mother in the Caribbean!" he said.

"Shut up!" cried Claire, furious and sobbing.

"And as far as being concerned about what's gonna happen when Aideen and I walk down the hallways at school, you can forget it!" he continued, not thinking about his words before they came out of his mouth, "'Cause it's never gonna happen! So, just bury your head in the sand, and wait for your fuckin' prom!" he finished, panting and looking around. John almost flinched when he saw Aideen's hurt expression.

"I hate you!" screamed Claire.

"Yeah?" he replied, "Good!" the Criminal scoffed. He crossed his arms, not daring to look at Aideen again, and everything was quiet until Brian spoke up.

"Then I assume Allison, Aideen and I," he smiled ironically, "are better people than you guys, huh? Us Basket-Cases," he paused, looking at Allison, "Do you – would you do that to me?" he asked her.

"I don't have any friends," Allison mused with a sad sort of smile.

"Well if you did?" he continued and Allison shook her head.

"No," she promised. "I don't think the kind of friends I'd have would mind."

"Would you?" the Brain questioned, turning to Aideen now. She shook her head.

"I like you too much," she smiled slightly, looking down. "I would be proud to have you and Allison as my friends," the girl added quietly and John felt a stab at his chest.

"I just wanna tell, each of you," Brian carried on, "that I wouldn't do that. I wouldn't and I will not! 'Cause, I think that's real shitty," he said.

"Your friends wouldn't mind because they look up to us," Claire told him weakly, wiping her eyes as Brian laughed sadly, also tearing up.

"You're so conceited, Claire," he whimpered, burying his head in his knees as he wept, "You're so conceited," he breathed, looking up and wiping his eyes roughly with the palm of his hand. "You're so, like, full of yourself. Why are you like that?" he asked genuinely.

"I'm not saying that to be conceited!" replied Claire, crying again, "I hate it! I hate having to go along with everything my friends say!"

"Well then why do you do it?" the Brain questioned.

"I don't know," confessed the Princess, "I don't – you don't understand – you don't. You're not friends with the same kind of people that Andy and I are friends with! You know, you just don't understand the pressure that they can put on you!" she sobbed and Brian recoiled in shocked.

"I don't understand what?" he said scornfully, "You think I don't understand pressure, Claire? Well fuck you! Fuck you!" he hid his head in his arms again, tears falling fast and furiously. He then stopped and stretched out, lying down slightly and leaning on a chair, "Know why I'm here today? Do you?" he cried, demanding an answer, "I'm here because Mr. Ryan found a gun in my locker."

"Why'd you have a gun in your locker?" asked Andrew calmly, feeling bad for the Brain.

"I tried," he cried, babbling, "You pull the fuckin' trunk on it and the light's s'posed to go on – and it didn't go on, I mean, I..."

"What's the gun for Brian?" the Athlete asked, more firmly this time. Everyone was looking at him with a mixture of shock and concern.

"Just forget it," he dismissed, shaking his head.

"You brought it up, man!" said Andrew adamantly. Brian bit his lip and sighed, giving in.

"I can't have an 'F'," he told them sadly, sitting up from his laying position and placing his head on his hands, "I can't have it and I know my parents can't have it," he laughed without humour. John looked away, this statement making him think back to his 'Big Bri's House' impersonation and the guilt hit him hard and fast, "Even if I aced the rest of the semester, I'm still only a B. And everything's ruined for me!" he cried.

"Oh, Brian," whispered Claire with pity. Angry, Brian hit the chair he was leaning on before.

"So I considered my options, you know?" he snorted, though there was no humour in it.

"No!" said Claire firmly, "Killing yourself is not an option!"

"Well I didn't do it, did I?" he retorted angrily, "No, I don't think so."

"It was a hand gun?" piped up Allison, looking at him with sad eyes.

"No, it was a flare gun," he said. Suddenly, the atmosphere changed and John tried his best not to smile, "went off in my locker," he added. All of a sudden, it was not John doing the laughing.

"Really?" asked Andrew, snorting but at the same time trying to contain his amusement to be sensitive.

"It's not funny," muttered Brian. Slowly, they all began to laugh a little, starting with Andrew, then John, Allison, Aideen, and Claire. It wasn't long before Brian joined them, "Yes it is," nodded, thinking on it. "Fuckin' elephant was destroyed!" he added triumphantly. Everyone continued to laugh for a moment until Allison spoke up.

"You wanna know what I did to get in here?" she offered. Everyone turned, looking interested and she smiled. "Nothing," she confessed, "I didn't have anything better to do," the girl shrugged and everyone laughed again, this time with Allison. "You're laughing at me," she accused, her smile still there.

"No," Andrew denied, though his laughter was making it obvious.

"Yes, you are!" she gasped, grinning with giggles. Eventually, everyone wound down and Andrew looked at Aideen.

"What about you?" he asked, a smile on his face as the redhead turned to him, titling her head. "What'd you do to get here?" he explained and Aideen turned away, shrugging.

"I, umm," she took a deep breath, sighing. "I may have borrowed a certain something belonging to Principal Vernon," she confessed, looking around at the surprised faces of her fellow students.

"Like what?" asked John, a smile on his face. Aideen smiled back, though it was strained.

"Like..." she smirked, "His new car, maybe?"

"No way!" roared Andrew, bursting out into laughter along with the others.

"I returned it right away!" the redhead assured them through her laughter, "It only had three or four dents in it, and the scratches are easily painted over!"

"Classic!" laughed John, a wide grin on his face.

Brian got up and walked around to the record playing, putting in a record and letting the song play. Their high mood was displayed as the six in detention danced around with each other, suddenly getting along better with one another than they ever thought possible.


	8. Dont You Forget About Me

Chapter Eight

John had already left through the heating ducts to get back to the solitary area Principal Vernon was keeping him and, winding down from all the excitement, Andrew, Allison, Claire, Brian, and Aideen were sitting, in that order, on the railing near their desks. They were quietly enjoying each other's company when Claire got an idea, and turned to Brian.

"Brian?" she called and he turned to her.

"Yeah?" asked the boy, a small smile on his face.

"Are you gonna write your paper?" she questioned and his smile turned suspicious, though they all had a lot more trust for each other now than before.

"Yeah, why?" he asked her, biting his lip. Claire took a deep breath and, hoping that she didn't sound like she was using him, began.

"Well, it's kinda a waste for all of us to write our paper, don't you think?" she prompted, hoping he would reach the conclusion on his own. Aideen shook her head slightly, but she too was hoping Brian would go along with the plan.

"Oh," Brian realised, "but that's what Vernon wants us to do –"

"True," agreed Claire, cutting in before he could reject the suggestion, "but I think we'd all kinda say the same thing."

"You just don't want to write your paper," he scoffed, "Right?"

"True, but, you're the smartest, right?" continued Claire, stroking his ego to get him to agree. Aideen leaned in closer, nodding in agreement.

"You really are, Brian," she smiled in a friendly way.

"Oh, well," he blushed, full of pride for the words the girls were saying.

"We trust you," Claire assured him. Brian seriously considered the idea, glancing over at Allison and Andrew, who nodded in approval.

"Yeah," agreed the Athlete. Taking a deep breath, Brian sighed.

"Alright, I'll do it," he assured them and Claire leaned over, hugging him.

"Great," she grinned, kissing him on the cheek and turning to Allison, who stared back. After a moment, still with her smile on her face, Claire tugged on Allison's jumper, "C'mon," she said, preparing to jump down.

"Where're we going?" asked Allison cautiously as Claire got off the railing, tugging the Basket Case with her.

"Just come on," she smiled, and the two girls walked away towards the bathroom. Now left with the boys, Aideen sighed and jumped down, heading towards the door.

"Where're you going?" asked Brian, looking over at Aideen and she smiled.

"Out," she replied vaguely, though she knew the boys were aware of her intended destination. The redhead opened the library door and stuck her head out, checking for any signs of Principal Vernon.

When he was nowhere in the hall, or in his office, the girl smiled and headed out, darting quickly across the hallway in case Vernon emerged suddenly. She ducked into his office and picked up the key from his desk, unlocking the door to the closet he was no doubt keeping John in. Quietly as she could, she put the key back and opened the door, seeing John staring up at her from his place sat on the ground amongst the scattered files.

"You lost?" he asked, his expression slightly confused. Aideen walked in further, biting her lip and smiling slightly as she closed the door. After a moment, John smiled, too, and took her wrists, tugging her down to sit with him.

"I got bored," she excused, kneeling between his legs, facing him. John gave her a 'yeah right' look and she shrugged meekly. "I did – and I sorta..." she trailed off, looking away. John hooked his hand under her chin and brought her gaze back to him.

"Sorta what?" he asked, smiling but with a serious tone. Aideen sighed a little and took his hand from her chin, holding it in both her hands as she bit her lip again. Shaking his head, John leaned forwards until his lips were only an inch away from her lips. He paused.

Aideen leaned into him, their mouth connecting in a kiss, and John smiled into it as he placed a hand on the back of her head, the other going to her waist. The redhead wrapped both her arms around his neck and the two continued kissing, their eyes closed. John was relieved – he'd wanted to do this since she walked in. Aideen smiled – she never thought she'd finish her detention by kissing John Bender in a closet in their Principal's office.

When Aideen pulled back from the kiss, John leaned in for another, but the girl placed her hands on his shoulders and pushed him back. Ignoring his questioning look, the redhead wrapped her arms around him and hugged him, tears coming to her eyes. This was what she needed – what she'd needed for so many years; someone to hold her and comfort her. When John hugged her back, she felt so safe.

The two remained like that for a while, just hugging and not speaking, until John released her and stood up, bringing the redhead up with him. He smiled down at her and she smiled back before he turned her around, opening the door to the closet and gently nudging her out. Aideen turned around, tilting her head in question, and John shrugged.

"Detention's almost over," he told her, answering her silent question. "Better get back to the library before Dick find out you snuck out to see me."

"Okay," the girl agreed, turning to leave the office when John grabbed her wrist, holding her in place. He pulled her back and planted one last kiss on her lips.

"I'm walking you home," John told her and Aideen nodded, this time actually walking back into the library. When she got in, she smiled at Allison – who looked great with less eyeliner and her hair pulled off her face – and Claire, who was sitting with Brian, her head leaning on his shoulder while he wrote the paper, occasionally looking down at the pink-wearing redhead with a smile.

"Looks like everyone paired up, huh?" Claire mused with a wide smile, turning to Aideen. The Irish redhead blushed slightly and walked to her seat, Claire getting up to sit with her. "So, did you ever picture yourself with a bad-boy?" she asked.

"No," Aideen giggled, turning briefly to look at Brian, who playing with his pen having already finished the paper, "Did you ever picture yourself with a Brainiac?"

"Never," Claire grinned, looking at Brian. "I like him, though," she decided, nodding to herself. She played with her earring absently and noticed Aideen staring at the diamonds – she saw for the first time the girl's silver lightning-bolt earrings and gasped, "Oh, wow!"

"What?" asked Aideen; she was alarmed at the sudden outburst. Claire laughed a little.

"Nothing, I just love your earrings," she said, reaching over and touching one of the cool silver dangles. Aideen smiled.

"I like yours, too," she replied quietly, looking away. The difference was; Claire could buy herself lightning-bolt earrings in an assortment of metals and colours, while Aideen would likely never own diamond studs. A thoughtful look crossed Claire's face, but Principal Vernon stepped in before either girl could say anything more.

"Alright," he announced, pushing John in the room, "Get out of here. I have to get something from my office, so leave your papers here and I'll collect them on my way back. You can go," he said, turning and walking into his office – this time, however, he shut the door.

"Oh, man!" groaned Andrew, throwing his arms in the air, "Finally!"

The five walk down the hall, smiling and talking to each other happily, and passed Carl. Busy sweeping up dirt from the floor, Carl only noticed them when he heard footsteps and looked up, a smile on his face. Brian, unembarrassed now to be friends with the janitor, nodded at him in greeting. Everyone else did the same as they passed the school employee, who looked upon the mismatched group in what could only be described as awe. A few hours and the six most unexpected people were suddenly friendly and relatively close to one another; stranger things may have happened, but he could not currently think of anything.

"See ya, Brian," he says eventually, leaning on his broom and waving at the young boy.

"Bye, Carl," Brian smiled, his arms around Claire and Allison as they walk out the door.

"See you next Saturday," bid John as he and Aideen passed him.

"See you then," the Irish girl smiled from under John's arm. Carl grinned.

"You bet!" he agreed, patting John's back as he smiled at Aideen.

Out in the car-park, Brian was just getting into his dad's car when Claire hurried forwards and kissed his cheek, smiling at him. Grinning giddily, Brian kissed hers back and got into the car. Without waiting for Brian to even buckle his belt, his dad started the engine and left. Claire waved after him and John lifted his hand, leaning over so Brain could see him and Aideen in the rear-view mirror. Then Brain smiled as he looked at his unexpected friends, waving through his side-window until the car was out of view.

Allison's ride pulled into the car-park as she and Andrew kiss gently. The girl then leaned back, grinning as she ripped a patch off Andrew's jacket and backed away slowly, showing him the patch with a smile. She held his jumper tighter around her shoulders as she turned and got into the car. No sooner than Allison had opened the door did Andrew's dad arrive and look at him, waiting for his son to get in the car. Realising that Andrew was distracted his dad turned and looked at Allison, raising an eyebrow.

Andrew got into the car and they drove off, Allison and her dad pulling out soon after. Claire stood with John and Aideen, chatting with them quietly before her dad drove up to her. She paused, turning to them and taking out her earrings, handing both to Aideen with a smile. The other redhead grinned back and held them tightly in one hand, using the other to take out her lightning earring and handing them to Claire. Grinning at each other, the girls put in their new earrings as Claire waved to them both, getting into the car and driving away.

John waited for Aideen to put the earrings in before he wrapped his arm around her shoulders again. Blushing, Aideen leant into his shoulder and John smiled, leaning down and kissing her lightly on the lips. After pulling back, he steered them towards the football field and the duo headed away from the car-park to begin their walk home.

Principal Vernon entered the empty library, scanning the desks for the essays he knew the students hadn't written. Just as he was about to give up his search, he spotted one piece of paper on the middle desk, to the right of the rows. Walking over, he picked up the paper and scanned the essay. A thoughtful look appeared on his face as he sat on the edge of the desk.

"Dear Mr. Vernon," Brian's voice sounded, speaking the words, "we accept the fact that we had to sacrifice a whole Saturday in detention for whatever it was we did wrong. But we think you're crazy to make an essay telling you who we think we are. You see us as you want to see us; in the simplest terms – in the most convenient definitions."

John and Aideen left the car-park, waving slightly to their friends as they drove away. The two then carried on and walked over the football field hand-in-hand, their finger entwined.

"But what we found out is that each one of us is a Brain..." informed Brian, trailing off as the handwriting changed.

"...and an Athlete..." voiced Andrew.

"...and a Basket-Case..." Allison said.

"...a Princess..." mused Claire.

"...a Loner..." Aideen muttered.

"...and a Criminal," finished John.

"Does that answer your question? Sincerely yours,"

"The Breakfast Club," they all said in union.

Aideen turned, looking back at the school over John's shoulder with a smile as he threw his fist in the air in victory.

**A/N: This story is now complete! Thanks for reading, please review if you haven't already and tell me what you think :)**


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